


The Heart Doesn't Lie, But the Soul Sure Can Kill

by infectiousKnowledge



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1990s, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Attempted Murder, Bipolar Disorder, Blood, Blood and Gore, Blood and Injury, Corpses, Could be a happy ending, Cyclothymic Disorder, Decapitation, Everybody Dies, Graphic Description of Corpses, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Murder, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, could also not be though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:34:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 38,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28430976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/infectiousKnowledge/pseuds/infectiousKnowledge
Summary: Dream's the most recent attempted-victim of a serial killer that keeps their killings to the small town of Brawley, California. There's one problem when the blonde gets away. He won't be safe for long, and his friends are starting to die around him.A twist on the Soulmates AU with a 1980s-90s Slasher/Thriller/Horror Movie...He lived alone, startled by the sound. Emerald eyes shifted to the door and he pulled the blankets back and stood up, walking to the door. With his hand on the handle, he slowly turned the knob.He could hear footsteps in his house, quickly closing the door and covering his mouth with a hand. Someone had broken in.-COMPLETED-
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF), GeorgeNotFound/Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF), Past Clay | Dream/Floris | Fundy - Relationship, Zak Ahmed/Darryl Noveschosch
Comments: 820
Kudos: 784





	1. Prologue - The Virgin

**Author's Note:**

> I've made a new fic. Hello :)
> 
> This is an AO3 exclusive so it's not going on my Wattpad. Hello AO3 audience, I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Comments fuel me, please leave comments! PLEASE.
> 
> Even if they're criticism.
> 
> \---
> 
> I'm not shipping real people and I'm sure as hell not going to force them into a relationship, I'm (mostly) not using real-life characteristics of them, I'm shipping their personas, all this is just for fun, I know that they're just good friends and that's great, let it stay like this. Most of those fanfics are just ideas I've come up with and decide to make them into stories with characters based off of these people and their personas, I really, really don't want them to fuck and/or date, that would be gross.
> 
> If a Big Man himself comes down, slaps me in the face, and calls me a nerd, I'll take this down.

The dirty-blonde sat up in his bed, staring down at his arm with a single date written on it. The clock would strike midnight soon and then some time in the following 24 hours, he’d meet them. 

He couldn’t sleep, excited for the day like a kid would be before Christmas or their Birthday. He smoothed down his bed sheets and glanced over at the clock. Just five or so minutes. Time seemed to just not want to tick for him.

But he heard a muted noise come from in his empty house.

He lived alone, startled by the sound. Emerald eyes shifted to the door and he pulled the blankets back and stood up, walking to the door. With his hand on the handle, he slowly turned the knob. 

He could hear footsteps in his house, quickly closing the door and covering his mouth with a hand. Someone had broken in.

He couldn’t help but not feel too scared though. He was going to meet his soulmate today, and he couldn’t do that if a burglar killed him. He knew things were going to be alright, slowly opening the door to see a singular shoe step around one of the corners. He shut it silently again, opening his closet door and slipping in.

The door to his bedroom opened nearly immediately after that, the man’s eyes on the intruder through small slits. They carried a bloody sword and wore a mask with the resemblance of a hog.

The hider was starting to feel incredibly scared at this point. 

This guy had been on the news. Breaking into people's houses and chopping them up like a butcher would do to a pig. He didn’t think he was going to survive.

But maybe he would, staring down at the date on his inner forearm. It was still there and would disappear if he’d met his soulmate, or would be unable to meet them for some odd reason. But its ink was still a deep pink.

He’d calmed his breathing, shuffling around quietly for any sort of weapon or defense in the closet. He’d grabbed one of his sweaters, pulling it on, trying to think ahead in case he needed to wrap something around a wound. He stopped when he heard steps stopping outside the closet and squeaked when it opened. 

He was quick to kick at the guy’s knee and have enough time to dart out of the room, starting a chase through his own house. He heard heavy boots on the wood behind him after a good few seconds, realizing the guy had gotten up and started after him. 

His first stop was the kitchen for a knife from the knife block, which caused him to nearly trip on his way down the stairs in his getaway. His next stop was the front door, finding it locked. He swore lightly and turned around to see the man rushing at him, allowing him to duck out of the way just in time to avoid a swing of the killer’s sword.

He did not want to get fucking mutilated, hopping over the back of the couch in the living room to gain an extra second as he checked the back door. Locked as well. He’d not gotten enough time for himself, the other grabbing him and slamming his head into the glass. It didn’t break, but he did start bleeding from his nose, able to duck out of the way of another swing that was supposed to finish him off.

In his next bit of running, a hand slipped up to find his nose somewhat crooked and in pain. It was broken and his hand was covered in blood when he pulled it away. He’d managed to turn around just in time to stab the killer through the hand, buying even more time to go back upstairs and check for any unlocked windows. 

There were none, so he’d grabbed the rotary phone off his bedside table, dialing the police. He was quick, even though his hands were shaking.   
  
_ “911, how may I help you?” _ The operator didn’t sound cheery, nor sad, just indifferent.   
  
“There’s- this guy in my house. He broke my nose and he’s that Butcher-killer. The Blade or whatever they call him. I’m- I live at 1124 East Sleep St. Just- please.” He was talking fast, peering over his shoulder while one hand jiggled the final window in his bedroom.

It was locked from the outside somehow.   
  
_ “Help is on the way, Sir.” _ And now the operator was slightly panicked. They'd been looking for an opportunity to catch the killer forever.  _ “Please stay on the line.” _

He laughed at that, looking back to see the killer in the doorway of the room. “I’ll try my best to do so.” The blonde dropped the phone so it’d dangle from the cord, staring down the man armed with a knife in one bleeding hand and a broadsword in the other. They were approaching and he closed his eyes for a single second, pushing off the wall and downwards to slide between the killer’s legs and back out into the hallway.

He mentally thanked his parents for making him do gymnastics and track as a kid, that’s the only reason he had been able to evade the other for as long as he did. Keeping up a good pace and able to just barely slip out of death’s grasp. He just needed to stall until the authorities got there.

Which would prove to be very difficult, seconds stretching to minutes and minutes stretching to hours. He’d kept having close encounters, eventually getting a fucking knife to the shoulder and watching deep-red soak into his sweater. He didn’t scream, just breathing a little awkwardly and kicking the killer in the face to have enough time to pull it out.

But that just made the wound worse.

The front door was flung open just in time and the blonde turned to make a B-line towards it, jumping out and just barely able to miss the killer trying to grab the back of his sweater and keep him inside. He only came to a stop when he was behind an ambulance, then going to hold his bleeding shoulder and apply pressure. Someone was asking him questions and cops were going into the house.

The whole neighborhood was now awake and the blonde couldn’t hear the voices asking him if he was okay.

He looked down at his forearm after pushing up the blood-stained fabric of his sweater, his shoulder bleeding and his nose broken. The date was gone and replaced with two hearts. One pink with the name ‘Techno’ and one lime green with the name ‘Dream’. He’d looked around at the emergency services exposed arms, but everyone had dates or different colored hearts and names.    
  
His eyes slowly slid over to the tree line, watching a glimpse of the serial killer escaping into the woods. He covered his mouth, sobbing and terrified. The pink heart would have faded and disappeared if they were never going to meet again.   
  
It was still a deep pink.


	2. Chapter One - The Idiot and The Jock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a year after the events of the prologue, Dream's life is going steady. Things around him are getting weird though, very suspicious.
> 
> Maybe he's just paranoid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I SAID WEEKLY UPDATES- I WAS NOT LYING  
> Also- this person is just... SO frickin' nice.  
> [ FIND THEM HERE ](https://www.wattpad.com/user/CIZAWRTAKEN)

The next day had proved difficult for Dream, silent while in the hospital for his injuries. He’d lost a bit of motor function in his right arm, and he’d outwardly expressed how that would make it hard for him to do his job. He was a barista at a local coffee shop, doing that one-handed would be a nightmare.   
  
Good thing his coworker and new roommate offered to take up his shift.

That’s right. He didn’t trust himself to be living alone anymore. Having told his house to fuck off so he could move in with his friends Sapnap and George. He always thought that the killer was lurking in the lonely dark after that.    
  
After a year, he’d gotten healthy enough to properly go back to work, his nose having healed and his arm no longer in a sling. The stab had broken his collarbone and he was all over the news. The first victim of the Blade that had survived. It had caused some problems for him, being all over the news. People constantly swarmed him with questions, news reporters specifically.   
  
He gave them all the same answers. That he’d been nearly killed on the day he was supposed to meet his soulmate, that all the doors and windows were locked from the outside, and that the entire ordeal had lasted half an hour.

There were some he didn’t know the answers to. What the killer sounded like, their name, their height. He was too busy not dying to find out.

There was one question he had an answer for but never answered truthfully. No, he didn’t know if they’d come back for him.

People all rumored that the killer would. Dream himself knew for certain that ‘Techno’ would be back for him.   
  
“That’s one strawberry frappuccino and one caramel macchiato. Is that all for you ladies?” His fingers were hovering over the keypad and the nods from both teenagers got him to press a finalizing button. “Your total comes out to $10.34 cents.” When the teens handed him three-five dollar bills, he quickly gave them the change and receipt, telling them that drinks for ‘Shea’ and ‘Katie’ would be out in a bit. “Next please.”   
  
A pink-haired man came up, hair up in a bun and sunglasses on his face. “Can I get- a caramel frap?”   
  
Dream couldn’t describe it, but he felt somewhat unsettled being near this man. He just told himself that he was probably on edge since tomorrow would be the first anniversary of his house being broken into, and himself almost slaughtered. “Yeah. I’ll put that right in. Anything else?”   
  
“...A murder danish.”    
  
Dream felt thrown off and extremely uncomfortable, nodding and reaching into the display case with gloved hands to grab a strawberry jelly-filled pastry. It’d been nicknamed a ‘murder dessert’ because of the way they were baked made the jelly splatter out like blood at a crime scene.   
  
He passed it over, gloved fingers lightly brushing against skin.. It all made him scared out of his mind and the second he rang the other up, he tapped out. The blonde passed the drink orders on Sapnap and went into the backroom to take off his apron and throw it on the ground.   
  
His head was immediately in his hands and he sat against a wall, sliding down to try to breathe normally. His life had changed from almost dying, anyone’s would, but it changed him for the worse. He was scared now, scared of everything.

There was a noise in the dark corners of the room and his head snapped up to look off in the direction it came from. He wasn’t going to stick around and get hurt, snatching his apron and opening the door again. He was just completely on edge, thinking back on his encounter.

His encounter with his serial killer soulmate that he was still due to meet again. He knows, he checked his arm multiple times a day. 

The pink-haired man was gone, his eyes resting on the apron in his hands. He saw blood on his fingers, blinking and it was gone. “Hey uhm, Sap.” He looked towards his co-worker, watching them turn to him with a slight smile.   
  
“Yeah, Dream?” Sapnap had slid someone’s drink over the counter, shouting their name so they’d come and get their drink.    
  
“I’m gonna head home early.” The blonde hung his apron upon a small hook behind the counter and smiled awkwardly at his friend. Everything was unsettling for him and he needed to get out. His sweater that was previously tied around his waist went back over his collared work shirt. 

“Oh? You alright?” It was no secret to everyone what tomorrow would be. “I can call George and make sure he’ll be there with you if you need.” The raven’s hands were already reaching for the landline, only being stopped by Dream holding his wrists.   
  
“No. It's- I’m just paranoid.” His smile dropped and he let go of the other’s wrists, walking around the counter and pushing the front door open.

Fear was all around him, eyes looking at the passing automobiles and off at teenagers across the street. A group of high-school girls giggling on their way home. They looked so carefree, so happy to be with each other.

The blonde turned away from them, passing an electronics shop to see the display TVs all playing the news. Telling of tomorrow marking one year since he'd been attacked. He was the Blade’s last victim, no bodies turning up chopped in the killer’s preferred method.

He was the one that got away, and he knew the second they got him; the killing would start again. He had stayed alive, he was a fighter now. But still a scaredy-cat.

His boots gently thumped against the concrete, eyes looking over every little detail in the street. He might’ve been afraid of his would-be murderer, he knew that if they came after him he’d fight back this time. He wasn’t going to run away anymore.

Well, he probably would, but if he was cornered he’d be stabbing or smashing some shit. He’d had enough of being helpless.   
  
He’d been preparing for his next run-in with the killer. 

But for now, he was walking home. He passed his old neighborhood on the way, huffing and just sparing a glance at the bit of the house he could see. No one had moved in after him, the place being completely abandoned.

He’d made his way to the apartment, sitting down on the couch and turning the TV on. The news was the channel it turned to and his hands fiddled with the remote to change the channel, immediately getting a scream for his efforts. It was October, so horror movies were being shown every day.

He shook his head, dragging a hand down his face and shutting the TV off. Everywhere he went reminded him of how he got away. Of how he'd most likely never fully be away.

He turned onto his stomach, grabbing the phone from its resting place and dialing for his other roommate's workplace; which was a small nearby diner. The owner was a nice woman and picked up the phone, passing it over to George.  _ "Dream. What's up?"  _

The blonde could hear shuffling on the other side, realizing the place was probably busy, so he shouldn't keep George from work for too long. "I've just been on edge all day. Cause of tomorrow. Was I guess- trying to check in to make sure you were safe."

_ "Of course I'm safe." _ The voice was quieter and Dream realized it was because George had turned away from the phone to look at something.  _ "You don't need to worry, Dream." _ The distraction was gone, George's voice loud and clear.

The blonde wanted to retort, to tell the other. He settled for sighing and nodding his head. "Just, be careful- alright?" Hile fiddled with the ring on his finger, silver and engraved with delightful scripture.

_ "I will, Dream. I've got tables to buss." _ The line was cut with George hanging up, the blonde's fingers slotting into the holes in the rotary dial.

He couldn't help but be scared. He had a  _ right _ to be scared. He set the phone back on top of its perch and sighed, hugging a couch cushion. His almost-killer was still out there, and he had proof they were coming back. 

He didn't like being alone, wincing when there was a knock on the door. He'd immediately gotten up and armed himself with a kitchen knife. A look through the peephole in the door showed him it was just a reporter. The blonde sighed, heavy with relief, and set his knife down.

The reporter and her cameraman swarmed him when he opened the door. He asked them how they got to his house and they told them a man had helped point them in the direction. A  _ hooded _ man had pointed them in the right direction.

He didn't feel safe in his friend's apartment.

He answered their questions, disliking the camera shoved in his face. Just like always, no he did not know specifics about the killer; no, he did not know if they would be coming back.

"Enough of the boring questions, you met your soulmate the day you were nearly killed, yes?" The woman grabbed his arm, pushing his sweater and collared shirt down to show the names and hearts. 

"...Yeah."

"What is your soulmate like, Mr. Anderson?" A microphone was just as close as the camera.

"I don't know. But I'll be meeting them again." A half-lie. A half-truth that he was scared of. 

"Alright. Thank you, Dream." Then they'd left. The blonde couldn't help but feel like the interaction was forced, and that the camera guy seemed familiar. He couldn't see their eyes through sunglasses though, and couldn't see their hair through a hat. But that jawline gave him shivers.

Sapnap had gotten home not too long after the people had left, going and comforting Dream who was still freaked out on the couch. "I'm scared."

"Nothing is gonna happen. All of us are gonna be fine, if you're that scared, we can look into moving out of town." It was no secret that the killer had only been seen here, and maybe moving would help him be safe.

"I wouldn't want to do that to you and George, you're both already doing a lot with letting me stay here. I can only go so long feeling like a third wheel." His eyes were drawn to the orange and light-blue hearts on Sapnap's arm. George and Sapnap, plain as day. When you met your soulmate properly and made a connection, more hearts would appear. His arm was basically covered in a sleeve of orange and blue, all decorating the names in the middle of the design.

Sapnap shook his head, hugging Dream a little tighter.

It was late in the day and George worked night shifts. The blonde had fallen asleep in his black-haired best friend's arms within a few minutes.   
  
Which started his nightmare. 

He was back in the godawful house and could hear humming. Someone was singing and stalking him. The blonde looked down to see his ankle slightly bent out of shape. He’d not be walking or even running on that. Looking around he noticed there was a lamp on the table. He was in front of his old couch, reaching up for the lamp and taking off the shade, going to use it as a makeshift weapon.

The humming was getting closer and the old him would’ve screwed his eyes shut, but they were wide open and alert. He rolled over from around the couch, trying to get into an open space. Open areas were safest, being cornered was ultimately dangerous.

He saw them then. The pig-masked Butcher. The Blade. He was standing on an injured leg, huffing and holding the lamp’s base like one would hold a baseball bat. He could actively feel the pain, scared; but he powered through both feelings, staring down the nearing killer.

He woke up before they got to him, and he realized he was still in Sapnap’s arms. He sighed, groggy, and rubbing at his face.

He started his morning routine, getting up and using the coffee pot. He looked out the window, watching the mailman walk down the street and fill up the box with envelopes. Some packages were placed before every slot and he noticed one that was already on top of his friend’s apartment box. It’d been there before the mailman got there.

He’d made his way down, heading on out to go check the mail with his keys. He looked over the package since the man was gone, finding that it was addressed to him. He got the rest of the mail from behind its little door, heading back up. 

He opened up the box with a boxcutter, finding something wrapped in saran wrap. There was a tag on it, from a deli. His eyes went wide and he dropped it after realizing what it was. It was a whole ass arm, elbow to fingertips. He got a better look at the tag. It had a date for when it was packaged, yesterday, and a label for what it was.

_ 'George Davidson Hog Trotter’ _   
  
He didn’t know what the second part was, shakily picking up the arm and examining it through the plastic. There was a ring on the hand, a mirror of the one he had. The words  _ best friends  _ were etched into the metal. The blonde, brunette, and raven all had matching rings since they were kids. This was the proof it was George.

Someone had sent him one of his friend’s arms. “Sapnap- Sap- Sapnap-” He shoved the wrapped arm back into the box and kept the flaps closed with his hands. Dream’s roommate had yawned and rubbed at their eyes.   
  
“What is it, Dream?” The worst part was that the arm was still cold, the hearts all over it only orange. The blue were gray and somewhat faded. They’d eventually completely disappear. THe blonde turned around, sniffling. He was crying and held the box tightly.   
  
“Their- he’s…” He got a look at Sapnap’s arm, looking at the gray hearts on it. “George.” He moved the box to one hand so he could cover his mouth with the other.   
  
“What about George?” Sapnap was getting up and walking over to the other, catching a glimpse of his own marked arm on the way. He froze just as Dream did, overlooking the gray and orange hearts, how George’s name was disappearing. “No-”   
  
The blonde sobbed finally, gripping the box tighter and nearly crushing the cardboard within his hold. “He’s-” He debated showing the limb to Sapnap, pushing the box into the other’s hands to go and grab the landline phone.   
  
_ “911, what’s your emergency?” _ It wasn’t the exact same thing he heard a year ago, but it was similar enough to cause him to sob slightly louder.   
  
“I’ve- I’ve been sent an arm in the mail. A severed arm-”   
  
_ “A what?” _ The operator was caught off guard, the blonde hearing some shuffling on the other side of the line.  _ “An arm?” _   
  
“An arm.” He swallowed up his tears to try and keep enough composure to get this situated. He looked back at Sapnap who had gone to sit down in the little breakfast nook of the apartment. Staring down at his soulmark.

_ “Like, a human arm?” _ The operator wasn’t making things better on the blonde.   
  
“Yes! A fucking arm- just- god fucking damnit-” He slid over slightly to hit his head on the side of the fridge. It only hurt slightly, just something to ground himself to. “There was this package and it was addressed to me and-” He pulled the phone away from his face, letting it drop and hang by the cord while he hit his forehead against the side of the fridge again. He was done with the authorities.

Sure they helped him last time, helped him get out; but they didn’t help him feel safe. They didn’t eliminate the threat. That killer was still out there, and he pushed up the sleeve of both his sweater and work shirt that was underneath. The pink heart was still as deep, but also vibrant as ever.   
  
He kept his face covered with his hands, jumping up slightly to sit on the kitchen counter. This wasn’t over. He knew it wasn’t over. It wouldn’t be over. He didn’t expect his friends to be on the kill list, he thought that he’d be first, that he’d be the target.

He caught a glimpse of Sapnap still hunched over the table, devastated. The operator was still speaking, but the blonde wasn’t close enough to hear properly. He just spoke out the address of the apartment, down to the room number. He stepped away from the phone to walk back over to the box that Sapnap had pushed away from himself slightly.

He swallowed all his fears, all his sobs, and he opened up the cardboard flaps again. He got hopeful, maybe there’d be fingerprints on the plastic wrap. Maybe there’d be fingerprints on the arm.

This was all they had of George. Knowing the Blade, it’d also be all they got too. The Butcher was careful with the pieces they left and there were still bodies with pieces missing. He’d been staring at it for so long that when the sheriff had opened his door, he had not even realized that it was unlocked.

He remembered Sapnap had locked it, someone had broken in. He avoided questions the sheriff and deputy asked him, walking past and looking all throughout the apartment. Nothing in the bedrooms, nothing in the bathroom.

But the fridge.

He gasped and quickly slammed the fridge door shut. “I- I found more evidence.” He covered his mouth, feeling sick and walking to sit next to Sapnap.

He’d found a head in his fridge, missing a nose, the skin of its cheeks, and ears. It was George. He was thankful that his gut reaction was to slam the door shut again so it wouldn’t commit the sight to memory. He was lucky in that sense, it just looked like a blur in his mind. He’d sucked up his tears this time, hugging Sapnap tighter. He’d not be letting the raven see that. Never- it was too bloody and heartbreaking. “Dream-” The other wrapped their arms around Dream in turn, the blonde making sure he never got a look at the fridge where the sheriff, deputy, and some stray officers were pulling a wrapped head on a platter out of the unit.

“You know- moving doesn’t sound too bad.” He chuckled, sniffling after and sobbing into Sapnap’s hair. “Get away from this shit hole-” He gently ran his fingers through his friend’s hair, thumbing over the fabric strip of their bandana. 

The cops were taking away the evidence, Dream watching them walk out. A detective had come and sat at one of the free chairs, George’s usual spot. The blonde kept himself from protesting against them, telling them to move. “Tell me what you know, Mr. Anderson.”   
  
“It’s the one year anniversary of almost being killed.. I was sent my friend’s arm in the mail… And his head was in our fridge.” That got a gasp out of Sapnap, Dream hugging him slightly tighter. “It’s the Blade. They’re after me again. It’s fucking  _ bullshit _ .” He was much different than last time.

When he’d gotten out of that house, he’d been scared and shaking with the authorities. He was sobbing between words when they asked him questions. He had a full year to try and harden up, and he did his best. He was still scared, but he refused to shake and die off without a fight now.

“Are you sure?”   
  
“Just fucking look at it!” He slammed his fist against the table. He was done with everyone’s shit. The killer was after him, the killer had broken into his apartment, the killer had dismembered one of his best friends. “It’s got the deli label, it’s them.” He held his head within his hands again, feeling Sapnap shake against his side. “They are going to come after me and won’t stop until I’m fucking dead.”   
  
Dream sighed, using the top of Sapnap’s head like a pillow. He enjoyed being the tallest sometimes, it was comforting to hold someone like a teddy bear. It was nice, and it made him feel safe. The lack of evidence for the serial killer made him feel scared.

He knew their name. He knew the name of the person trying to kill him. He felt weak. He felt weak because he never told the authorities. Some part of him wanted it to be the one thing he was sure of. 

That the hunter after him was supposed to be the love of his life, and that their name was  _ ‘Techno’ _ . It made him feel slightly in control. Just the tiniest bit of leverage. A bit of information he could have all to himself.

He huffed, listening to the detective say how’d they’d do whatever they could. To call them if anything happened again. He said he would, watching them pack everything up and leave him alone with his best friend.   
  
“I’m sorry, Sap.” He turned to hide his face in Sapnap’s hair, sniffling silently.   
  
“I-” The raven was quiet. “Don’t be. We should’ve- we should’ve expected this.” The raven clung to the taller, the elder. “We should’ve believed you-” Sapnap sniffled again, nearly crushing the blonde.    
  
“Here. You can stay home today, and I’ll go and cover our shifts.” The blonde gently rubbed at his friend’s back, hearing them sigh shakily. “I- alright. I’ll stay home.”   
  
“You call me the second something happens, the second anything seems suspicious.” He stood up, pulling the raven up with him. He watched the other pull their collared shirt sleeve down and over the dying soulmark. “Okay?”   
  
“Of course, Dream. I’m not stupid.” Sapnap smiled and held onto Dream’s wrists. He was still obviously crying over the death of his soulmate, but tried his best to be optimistic. “I’ll probably take a nap. Or- or I’ll bake cookies.”   
  
Dream smiled, trying to lighten up as well. “Alright.” He fiddled with the collar of Sapnap’s shirt, making sure it laid properly. “You fucking call me.” He patted at the other’s shoulders, going and leaving through the front door. There was no sign of tampering with his lock, so whoever it was had keys.

He realized he didn’t have his own keys after patting himself down in the hallway. He’d lost them at some point. He’d try to think of when he could’ve dropped them the other day, but he was coming up short in an explanation. Whoever got those keys would’ve been the one who broke in.

He took one last look at the apartment door, hearing it lock from the inside, before he started walking off. Sapnap would be safe. That’s what he told himself. He knew Sapnap could fend someone off. They weren’t some coward like the blonde was. The raven knew basic self defense. He couldn’t help but feel off, but he was already putting his apron on and turning the sign around so that the shop would be open for the day. More of his coworkers would show up soon and he’d not be alone anymore.

It was strange to be alone in the early hours of the shop. It was somewhat dark and things were slow.

Someone came up to the counter that set him off slightly. “Can I get a strawberry frappuccino?” It was the same man from yesterday. The blonde nodded and quickly fixed up the drink, ringing him up and watching another employee come down and slip behind the counter with him.    
  
Dream frowned slightly, just seeing the man stare at him while his hands moved around and topped the drink with whipped cream. He swore those eyes were roaming underneath the shield of sunglasses, watching the pinkette’s head tilt with the motions of the blonde’s hands. He passed over the finished strawberry drink, watching the man’s hand come up to slide a five dollar bill over the counter. “Thank you, come again.” His voice was shaky and he watched the man leave again.   
  
The rest of the day had become a routine. Rush hour was stressful, but he was making it through alright.   
  
Then the landline was ringing.    
  
One of his coworkers who was closer answered it and then looked up to Dream, holding the phone out for the blonde. He quickly took it from them, holding it up to his ear and twirling the cord with his finger. “Sapnap?”   
  
_ “Hello, Dream.” _ That was not Sapnap. His eyes glanced all around the cafe, doing his best to keep calm.   
  
“Who are you.”    
  
Their voice was deep, and he recognized it. The humming he heard in his nightmare was playing through the phone. It was only now that he realized he had heard that humming even before then. When he was running away a year ago, he was too focused on surviving to realize. But they had been humming while hunting for him.  _ “That should be obvious, Blondie.”  _

He heard a strange chopping noise, breath hitching and eyes staring down at the ground. “Where’s Sapnap.” He turned his back to the open floor of the shop, staring at the phone unit.    
  
_ “Well. First I have to bleed him out. Then I can chop him up and send him to you. Do you have a preferred cut of pork, Dream?” _   
  
“Techno-” He said it. He said their name. “Techno, please.” It was the wrong thing to do, seeing as he heard a loud slice on the other side of the line and the call cut out. He was not supposed to do that. He slowly pulled the phone away, holding it to his chest and looking around again. He sniffled and started sobbing behind the counter, his current coworker looking alarmed and the people in the shop looking just as frightened.

A barista had broken down into tears out of nowhere, people were bound to be unsettled. Dream was shaking, sliding down onto the ground and dropping the phone. It was bad enough that George was gone, but now Sapnap; added onto the fact it was the same day he’d nearly been murdered the first time. He was done with it all.   
  
He slowly looked up at the person standing before him, the other employee. “Dream-” They knelt down, talking to him. “Are you alright?”   
  
He didn’t answer, reaching out and hugging the other barista. His life was such shit as of today. They’d sighed and gently patted at the blonde’s back, helping him up off the ground. “I-” He could barely talk to them, sniffling and covering his face with a hand. “They’re both dead.” He lifted his head up, openly crying in front of others. He’d never done that before. He was a mostly reserved person. “Both of them…”   
  
The other barista was startled, going to ask questions but deciding against it in favor of steadying Dream so he wouldn't fall over.

The blonde grabbed the phone, immediately calling the police again. They were still in the area and had showed up quickly. He was stuck at work though, sniffling and trying to keep himself from crying into people’s drinks. “Dream. Go home.” The barista frowned, pushing Dream onto the other side of the counter. “You clearly aren’t doing okay today.”

The blonde wanted to protest, but he’d need to make it to the crime scene, he’d need to find evidence of Techno. He nodded, taking off his apron and not bothering to hang it up; it was thrown onto the ground so he could run on out. He never should’ve left. He never should’ve let Sapnap be alone.

He ended up getting there before the police, throwing the door open and looking around at a trashed apartment. He swallowed roughly, stepping in. There was obviously a struggle, things were knocked over and blood was on the ground. He followed the trail to the bedroom, finding Sapnap’s body on the bed the raven shared with George, actively being cut up by a masked killer.    
  
He knew that pink hair. The blonde grabbed the closest thing he could use as a weapon and when he went to swing, they were gone; the window left open and Sapnap’s shoulders on the bed. His arms were gone, his head, and everything from his waist below. It wasn’t wrapped up, but there was a deli tag on his left pectoral, shirt ripped open and frayed.   
  
_ ‘Sapnap Armstrong Boston + Picnic Shoulder’ _

He dropped to his knees before the blood covered mattress, the police arriving just in time to see him start sobbing again. “I almost- I saw them- I saw them-” It was the clearest sight he’d ever gotten. He was distracted a year ago, and all he’d seen was the mask and outfit. But he saw ruby eyes in the mask this time, and the curtain of pink hair. “I-”   
  
He realized he’d been gripping a baseball bat so hard that his hands had splinters in them and he was bleeding. What was left of Sapnap was bagged and tagged as evidence, Dream pulled up by his wrists to be led out of the building and to an ambulance. It was all too familiar, glancing behind him to see the murderer in the surrounding line of trees. He sobbed again, and not just because the splinters were being removed.

All his friends were getting killed off, and now he’d be last. “Mr. Anderson.” One of the paramedics was talking to him after getting the last shard of wood out and bandaging up his palms. “Do you have anyone we can call to inform them about the deaths of your roommates?” They knew about George too, and Dream was coming up short when trying to think.   
  
“There are friends from highschool that they uhm-” He sniffled, a single last tear falling down his cheek. “Stayed in contact with. They’d uhm- they’d probably like to know-” His eyes slowly slid to the side, zeroing in on the baseball bat that had made him bleed. They were loading it up as evidence. He quickly stood up, stopping them and grabbing it with his bandaged hands. “Uhm… This was Sapnap’s. I’d like to keep it please.”    
  
The authorities looked between each other before nodding to him and letting the blonde keep the weapon. Dream looked around at the flashing emergency lights, realizing he would now be alone again. He huffed, dragging the bat behind him as he went back into the building. They didn’t need him anymore.   
  
He grabbed the phone book on his dead-friend’s kitchen counter. He sifted through it, eventually finding Bad Noveschosch. He was about to call the number, but he realized the phone cord had been cut, but more like it’d been slashed. He frowned, finding a nearby pen and circling the name so he wouldn’t lose it.   
  
He closed the book, grabbing his bat and staring out the window. It didn’t feel right spending the night here, in a fucking crime scene where people were already taping it up.   
  
He knew of one place he could go to, walking out with his bat in hand and his eyes set for his old neighborhood. The door was unlocked, still fucked up from when the police had broken in to get him out. He kicked it open, staring into the dark estate.    
  
There was still blood on the ground, his own from a year ago. It looked like it’d aged with time, almost black in color. He walked over it, looking around the mostly pristine house; clean besides the obvious blood and cracked glass of the back door. It was like he never left.   
  
He grabbed the landline, making a quick call to the number circled in the phone book. His bat was at his side, ready to fuck up anything that created noises- any of the things that go bump in the night. “Bad.”   
  
The other side of the line was silent for a second. “Dream?” The voice was soft on the other end, questioning the blonde. “You haven’t called me in forever.”   
  
“Yeah uhm… Sapnap and George they-'' He heard shuffling, eye darting around to see that it was just his hand twirling the cord. A small little tick to show how nervous he was. It’d happened on the phone with George; he shook his head, pushing that memory away. “Fuck.” He turned away, looking around the dark house. He turned on the kitchen light, just to feel safer. “The Blade is after me again and… They got George first and then Sap.”    
  
He sighed shakily, closing his eyes and forcing himself to not shed tears. “Dream..?” The blonde laughed, forced all to hell and awkward.    
  
“They’re dead, Bad.” He heard another noise at his feet. His bat had fallen over since he’d not been holding it. He smiled at how stupid he was, how on edge he was. He was such a little scaredy cat, hitting his forehead on one of his cabinets. “They’re dead. The Butcher-killer got them. I woke up this morning to get George’s arm in the mail and his fucking partially skinned head in my fridge.” He glanced around on the edges of the light, where it didn’t spread. He didn’t see anything moving in the darkness, even though he thought he would. “I fucking watched the killer chop up Sapnap.” He ran a hand through his hair, staring down at his bandaged palms.

“I… That’s horrible- do you need somewhere to stay?” It was clear Bad was talking to someone on the other end of the line. Probably his boyfriend. Dream couldn’t help but feel left out, the only single one of the whole group. “Skeppy and I can arrange something.”   


The blonde shook his head slightly. Bad and Skeppy weren’t soulmates, but they’d each already met their own and their hearts had greyed out. They’d never meet their soulmate again, but the other wasn’t dead. “Just for a little bit. Maybe two days so I can find a way out of this god forsaken state.”    
  
He kept his eyes on the dark, waiting for anything to move and jump out at him. “We can do that. Are you coming tonight?”   
  
Dream looked at the setting sun, realizing he’d be able to make it if he hitched a ride. “Yeah. I am.” Anything to not stay in the house. He didn’t feel safe here, at all. Even walking past the neighborhood on the sidewalk made him uneasy. “I’ll be there in a few minutes.”   
  
He hung up the phone without waiting for the other, grabbing his baseball bat and smashing his front door before leaving. He wanted to fuck things up. It was his fault that George and Sapnap had died in the beginning. He’d chosen to be close to them. He’d gotten away in the first place. If he’d just died that night instead of trying to survive, his friends would still be around. They’d still love each other.   
  
He shook his head, coming up and destroying his mailbox, smashing it into the ground. One of the people in the neighborhood were watering their plants last second, staring at the blonde who was going fucking crazy and taking his aggression out on a fucking piece of steel.    
  
A letter slipped out, addressed to him. There was no date for when it was sent out and he picked it up, cutting a patch of skin on his palm that was exposed. All that scrap metal was sharp after getting the shit beaten out of it.   
  
He opened the envelope, noticing that it was a piece of printer paper with calligraphy. He looked closer at the ink, realizing it was blood. He huffed.   
_  
_ _ ‘Hey Dream, _ _  
_ _  
_ _ So. You’re my soulmate. Needless to say, I was not expecting that. I don’t know what I’m to do now, but I have a bit of an idea. _

_ You have friends, Dream. I suggest you drop them quickly. Or I’ll make you drop them. _ _ You have nowhere to go. If you do, then you won’t soon.’ _ _  
_ _  
_ He looked up from the paper, folding it up and putting it back in the envelope. He went to stick it in his jeans front pocket only to realize they were both fake. He thought he’d have to hold it, but he realized that the back pockets were real. He ran out to the street, waving down a car that was already on the way out of town.    
  
He hopped into the passenger seat, holding his bat across his lap. “I need to get across town.”   
  
The woman smiled. “Well you’re in luck, because that’s where I’m heading.”   
  
He sighed, head lolling against the window and staring out in the night that had fallen on the town. He swore he saw a figure standing among the tree line, becoming a normal thing for him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the [ Spotify Playlist ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5EC0kD4EyNhBUSklffxnev?si=3GuMS-TvS5-N4mSY6B8Cug) for this fic!


	3. Chapter Two - The Scholar and The Druggie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream goes to visit Bad.
> 
> This go- well... Bad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is no beta-reader for this chapter, so please point out spelling mistakes!

“Is there a reason why you’re holding a bat across your lap like you’re on your way to kill someone, Mr. Anderson?” Of course, she knew his name, everyone did. 

He was silent for a full minute, formulating his response. “My friends are in trouble.” The woman nodded, shifting gears and turning on the brighter headlights. “I need to save them.” He wanted to tell this woman, but he felt that might stupidly make her a target.

He looked in the side-mirror through the window, relieved to find no cars behind them. A quick look out the windshield showed none ahead either. The town was quiet at night, especially the outskirts where they were at the time. “Today was the day, right? A full year?”   
  
“...Yeah. He was plotting something. I should’ve realized before; that everything wasn’t just coincidences.” He was angry at himself, he thought he was smarter than this.

The car ride was silent except for the radio playing.

She’d dropped him off at Bad’s house, the blonde rolling his wrist with the bat in hand. He was fucking pissed off and wanted to beat a killer’s ass. He held the bat up on his shoulder, arms hanging over it while he knocked. A brunette, almost ginger, glasses-wearing man opened it for him, letting him in so he could curl up on the couch.   
  
“Dream. You-” Bad saw the bandages on Dream’s hands and immediately thought the worse, seeing the exposed cuts from the mailbox metal. “Are you alright?”   
  
The blonde didn’t know what to say. “I’m still alive. Which is more than I can say for George and Sapnap.” It hurt his heart to say it, but it was true. His bat was set up against the coffee table, his face hidden between his knees. “I’ll be leaving in the morning. I want y’all to stay safe. I know Skeppy and Ant are visiting, the less people on this bitch’s hit list, the better.”

Bad could see the worrying state of his friend, sitting down next to Dream and rubbing at the blonde’s back. He noticed colored text on the other’s forearm, the green sweater and collared shirt having rid up slightly. The brunette shoved the sleeve up the rest of the way. “You- met them?”   
  
Met them? He did more than meet them. He nearly got slaughtered. “Yeah. I’ll be meeting them again. Cause-” He motioned to how both parts were still colorful. He didn’t like telling people about the mark, scared he’d let it slip about who he was meant for. Who was meant for him in turn as well.

It was honestly pretty, green and pink went well together due to red and green being opposites on the color wheel. It pissed him off staring at the colors, but he wouldn’t need to stare at it much longer.    
  
Bad smiled, pulling Dream’s sleeve back down. “That’s good. You know you’ll make it out of here then.”    
  
Yeah. He already knew that, and he hated it. He wouldn’t submit to the killer, so he knew he’d be taken or stalked. He was startled by a scream, grabbing his bat and jumping up. The brunette was immediately by his side, looking around scared. Dream twirled his bat in his hands, winding up.

Skeppy ran down the stairs, Ant in toe. They looked happy, not scared at all. “Guess what! We did it! We read the thing!”   
  
Bad smiled, clapping his hands. ‘That’s so good! What’d you read?”   
  
“The thing!” Antfrost smiled, ultimately mellow and happy. His face fell when he noticed the new guest. “Why is Dream armed with a bat-”   
  
The blonde huffed, setting the weapon back down and staring at the ground. He was jumpy, and frightened. “I’m… Practicing to try out for baseball.” He swung the bat in the air, he had good form.

“Ah. Hope you get on the team, Dream.” Skeppy walked past the blonde, over to Bad to show him a book. The blonde wasn’t paying attention to the two talking about it, he was just quick to sit on the couch again. Nothing felt safe, he knew that the Blade would be back. He just hoped that he wouldn’t be here too long to make everyone a target.

He didn’t want them to be put in danger because of him. He was ready to cry again, but knowing better than to try. His hand-picked at the couch, huffing and running his other hand down his face. 

He squeaked when he heard the sound of something locking. He turned around just to see Ant clasping a small coin purse shut. The sounds were similar. He felt fucked up.

His mind had been twisted.

It’d been formed for fear.

Formed for survival.

Every little detail was noticed.

A plan for escape was constantly made.

He took a minute to breathe, not realizing that he’d stopped doing so. The others looked over to him, concerned. “Are you alright Dream?” The blonde snapped his head towards Skeppy, eyes darting to the ground. He didn’t know how to answer, so he just decided not to. Everyone noticed his silence, and Bad was the only one with most of the information.

“I’m leaving in the morning.” He stood up, passing everyone with his bat in hand. He was about to enter the guest room, but stopped because he knew that Ant was using it.

He settled down in the bathtub instead, head lolling back against the porcelain wall. He didn’t feel like he could sleep. Two of his friends had died. He made a small joke in his mind about never sleeping again and he nodded to himself. It sounded like a good idea.

But his body decided to pass out.

Only to wake up to a scream in the early hours of the morning. He pushed out of the tub, bat in hand. That was most definitely not a scream of excitement or happiness. He nearly tripped over the body of Bad right outside the door, trying to crawl away. He held his bat up, picking up Bad with his other arm, and running down the stairs to see Ant wrestling with someone; Skeppy was nowhere to be seen. He slipped past the fighting bodies to set Bad in the grass and get a better look at him.   
  
“What happened-”   
  
“They… No warning…” The brunette coughed, blood gently dribbling down their chin. Dream frowned, patting Bad down and noticing a wince when his hand was on Bad’s leg. Wait- no. There wasn’t a leg. His eyes snapped down, hand ripping at the bottom of his sweater and wrapping some of the excess lime green fabric around the bleeding stump. “I- Skeppy…” Bad sniffled and Dream put his hands on his friend’s shoulders, picking Bad back up.    
  
“I’m gonna get you out of here. Ant too-” He peeked around the front door, nearly having a sword to the face. He saw the remains of the true-brunette laying in a puddle of blood and backed away from the door. This had to be the best view of the killer he’d ever gotten, huffing and looking around at the neighborhood. The sun was coming up, framing a perfect golden crown.

He was ready to sob at Bad going limp against his back, huffing and moving the other around to hold onto them and run down the street. He found himself with more stamina than usual, running and eventually sitting down at the end of the road. 

Bad lacked a pulse and Dream scooted away from the other slightly. He turned around, hearing boots in the distance slowly walking towards him. He saw them. He saw the pig-masked killer and his first instinct was to stand up and hold the bat within his tight grasp. He was done running, the sunrise framing his blonde hair and blood-covered sweater. He wasn’t hurt, but everyone around him was.

He’d changed his hands positions to get a better grip, letting one hand down by his side. Carrying bad had hurt his weaker arm, and he had an awful cramp in his shoulder now. That knife that was once lodged between his shoulder blades was biting him in the ass as of now.

He stared down at his bloodied hands, his overall fucked up appearance. “What the fuck do you want from me!” He was yelling at the figure, bat held over his shoulder and face screwed up with anger. “What the fuck is your problem!” They were still nearing and he couldn’t find himself giving a shit. “You’ve killed everyone! Are you fucking happy!?-”   
  
“Very.” It was the voice that ordered strawberry frappuccinos almost every day for the past year. The voice that had just started to shake the blonde down to his bones. It was the voice on the phone after he’d left Sapnap alone. After he’d made the stupid decisions that killed most of his friends.

He was crying now, slowly winding up to swing the bat while the killer approached. His feet wouldn’t let him run. His body demanded confrontation while he sobbed. Giving himself up was sounding nice, wherever he went people were bound to die. He slowly lowered the bat, breath hitching when a strong hand gripped his wrist, twisting it and forcing him to drop the bat. The prolonged contact caused two new hearts to appear on his arm. One pink and one green.    
  
He kept sobbing, staring up through the holes in the mask to stare into cold ruby eyes. They were dull, scratched and dirty. His emeralds were getting that way, his sanity depleting. He fell to the ground, continuing to cry while he was literally dragged down the street. The blonde didn’t want anyone else to be hurt, willingly letting the Blade take him away. 

He was a pretty crier.

He’d mostly spaced out, coming back to his senses with the sound of van doors opening. He kicked at the killer’s knees, the same move he tried a while ago that didn’t work this time, the blonde getting thrown into the back with a passed out Skeppy and most of the remains of his friends.   
  
George’s favorite blue shirt with his lucky glasses folded on top, Sapnap’s bandana. He tried to jiggle with the van doors, but they were locked. There were no windows or anything except for bars that he couldn’t squeeze through. But he did get a good look at the backseat and windshield.   
  
He heard footsteps walking away, leaving him terrified and sobbing. He wanted it to all be a fucking nightmare. He wanted to wake up in the arms of his friends, finding that they were all still alive. But a part of him knew better. It knew when the backdoor of the van opened up and the dead bodies of Ant and Bad were thrown in next to him.

He shuffled back as far as he could, hitting the row of seats keeping him trapped. It was worse when they were whole, when he could see their faces. He sobbed in the back of the van, hearing the engine start on up and take him away.

He could just barely see the sun rise fully, the sounds of other cars on the road. He sipped around the bodies and tried to bang on the back of the van door, wanting to get the attention of everyone. He was in the back of a killer’s van being taken who knows where. He knew Skeppy was the next person to the slaughter, going to shake him and try and get the raven to wake up. “Skeppy- Ske-”

He stopped when he saw a considerable bash on the other’s head. Checking for a pulse, he was relieved that there was one; but the other would not be waking up no matter how much he shook them.   
  
He grimaced moving over to hold onto the bars dividing the storage area of the van and the backseat. “What the hell is your deal!” He was pissed off and scared, not a good combo. “You’ve killed  _ everyone _ !” That was a lie, but he didn’t want the other to know.

“Not everyone. There’s your coworkers, neighbors… That nice lady at the supermarket that grows her own vegetables and gives you a head of lettuce every Sunday.” The mask had been removed, Dream able to see those ruby eyes clearly through the bars. This guy knew a shit ton about him.

“You’re a fucking psycho.” He’d slacked his hold on the bars, trying to get a glimpse of any street signs. He saw his baseball bat laying in the seat in front of him, trying to reach his arm through the bars to grab it. The van swerved at the exact wrong time, Dream getting thrown to the side and landing on top of Antfrost. He finally got a good look at the fact the cat-lover’s chest had just been sliced open.

He scrambled back, staring down at the large stain of blood on the front of his sweater from the body. God fucking damnit he hated this, settling down with his back to the killer. “Thanks for noticing, Blondie.” The van swerved around another corner, but Dream learned from his mistakes, using both arms to force himself to stay still.    
  
“You’re fucking  _ horrible _ .” When the ride evened out again, he sighed shakily, closing his eyes and hitting the back of his head against the metal bars. “Where are we even going-” All he’d seen were those fucking trees through the window. He’d stopped hearing the sounds of other cars after the first few minutes. Wherever they were, it was quiet.   
  
Until it wasn’t, the sounds of cars racing past at speeds you wouldn’t normally find on the streets.

They were on the highway to leave town. “Woah-woah-woah-” He turned around to stare back into the rearview mirror. “What the hell- why are we leaving town-”   
  
“Because we’re going home.” They weren’t fucking going home. Going home would mean turning the fuck around and taking him back to the apartment; or even his original house.

“You’ve fucked up my life. The more I’m around you the worse it gets. I don’t even  _ have _ to be around you, you just find a way to scare the shit out of me and make me feel like said shit.” He huffed, sagging slightly and pressing his face up against the bars. They were cold, but he didn’t mind. He himself felt cold on the inside, sighing and letting a single tear fall. He was done crying over this shit.    
  


He had been caught by the killer, he’d basically handed himself over. He had a plan now though. He’d be on the other’s turf, but he’d make sure he won. “I sent you a letter awhile ago. It should’ve been warning enough.”   
  
“I only saw it last night!-” He was reminded of the paper, pulling it out of his back pocket. “Whose blood is this anyway.” He spread the letter out on the floor of the van, feeling snarky and defiant. He was cycling through emotions and moods. Terrified, to angry, all the way to a sad mess.    
  
“The old lady you helped cross the street three weeks ago.” Dream shook his head, he couldn’t believe he was talking to the other. What else was he to do though, stuck in a van with two dead bodies and one that was probably gonna be dead soon. He’d do all he could to get Skeppy out. That guy did not deserve this in the slightest. No one did.

Except Dream.

He’d survived, he was the one that got out alive. He was the one that needed to die. If he was gone, all of it would end.   
  
It wouldn’t, he knew it wouldn’t. He started to laugh, upset. Since he didn’t want to cry anymore he’d resorted to fucked up chuckles. Techno would just move on after Dream was dead, he wouldn’t totally stop killing. This was the best option, letting himself be taken so the killer would stop their rampage.

He could save so many lives like this. The pinkette would be preoccupied with him instead of killing anyone. It was the most heroic thing possible. Sure he’d hate every last minute, but it was a sacrifice he had to make and was willing to.

Who was he kidding? He’d be running away by the end of the week. He was a fighter, he didn’t submit just because others were dying. It was human nature to sacrifice others to stay alive. He was the perfect example, finding himself now uncaring of his friends' deaths. It was sad at the moment, but now it didn’t affect him.    
  
“Where’s Bad’s leg.” He looked over at the brunette’s body, seeing his blood-soaked bit of sweater still wrapped around the stump.    
  
“In the cooler. Gotta keep it fresh for processing.” 

The blonde felt sick, putting the back of his hand to his mouth. Processing was the thing that they did to meat, if he remembered correctly. They turned his friends into fucking  _ meat _ . “Why?” He could never stay silent, his curious nature wanted to know everything.   
  
“Because. I’m a butcher, Dream. I don’t kill pigs and I need a replacement. Did you know burning flesh smells like cooked pork?” They were roughly turning another corner, Dream grounding himself, knowing they’d gotten off the highway. “It smells like barbeque, and tastes like it too.”    
  
Dream gagged, coughing after. Stomach-acid coated his throat and it was painful. He made a small noise of disgust and tried to get used to the stinging feeling. “You- ate people.”   
  
“I don’t like pork. Dream.” That was as much of an answer as he’d get.   
  
It hit him that if he wasn’t the psycho’s soulmate, or if he didn’t escape in the first place, he’d be turned into meat. “How would… How would you cut me.” His voice was hoarse due to his hurting throat, questioning the killer. “What part of me would you cut up.”   
  
“I cut up all of the people, but I only send out my least favorite parts.” So the fact that Dream was sent George’s arm and head, meant that Techno didn’t like them.   
  
‘What- meat not tender enough for you? Something wrong with it?” He was pissed again; pissed and in pain due to the subject of conversation.   
  
“Yep.” Another corner. “I left you my favorite from that Sapnap friend of yours. I wasn’t expecting you to get there so quickly. He did some sort of sport, right? The meat was prime in his shoulders. Now it’s off in an evidence locker-” The killer clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “A waste of good meat.”

Dream did not want to be in this van, his body finally wanting him to run. He pushed against the seats, banging on the van doors again and hoping they’d open. They didn’t, of course. Dream’s sanity was spent at this point. Fight or Flight responses had a hold on him and neither wanted to let go. It was a game of tug o’ war, pulling him back and forth.

Self-preservation and his dead friends got him to kick out one of the backlights. He went to reach his hand through the hole to get the breaks slamming to a stop and his head slamming against the back of the van. 

He slumped against the metal doors, woozy and bleeding from his mouth. He wasn’t thinking right anymore, leaning against the closest wall, right next to Bad. He huffed, tasting the blood in his mouth. He’d bit his lip when he hit his head.

A hand came up to run a finger through the small trail of blood. The area on the side of his head, where he hit, was sore; plus his eyes were just not working at all. His vision was blurring but he knew he wasn’t passing out, just disoriented. 

It hurt, and he’d given up, resting his head on the blood-covered stomach of Bad Noveschosch. He could hear a smirk in the chuckles coming from the front seat. 

“Just sleep, Dream. We’ll be home when you wake up.” As nice as sleep sounded, he would not be doing that. Anything could happen while he slept, and he would not let himself be that vulnerable anymore. “We’ll be home, I’ll quite possibly make some salad or something for you.”   
  
Dream laughed against Bad’s body, closing his eyes. “Nice to know you’re not forcing your cannibalistic tendencies on me..” He slurred his words, slipping off of Bad to roll on his back and stare at the ceiling of the van.   
  
“I’m not a cannibal. Humans are pigs. They’re greedy and might as well be reduced to meat.” 

The blonde’s laughter got slightly louder, turning into a whine. It hurt his head to be that loud. It hurt a lot. “What about me. I was just an innocent college student…” He took a deep breath, comically making a sound while doing so. “Did I deserve to get turned into meat?”   
  
“Yep. All humans are greedy whether they know it or not. Disgusting pigs.” Someone didn’t like people, at all.   
  
“Hmmm…” The blonde was out of responses, closing his eyes. “I dropped out of college because of you… Too crazy to continue.”   
  
“Good. You belong with me instead.”   
  
In his concussed state, he began to think while the other rattled off.

He wanted to fight, he really did, but he was weak. Maybe he’d stay with the other until he’d built up the courage. The courage and strength to fuck this guy’s shit up. “Techno-” He’d cut off the other’s rambling, hearing a hum. “I will hate you, no matter what you say or do. I will never make up my mind.” He slid his eyes, just barely able to see the rearview mirror through the bars.

It was blurry, but rubies were clearly shining with divine emotions. “That can change.” They’d flicked out of focus, and the van swerved around another corner, Dream getting thrown onto Antfrost this time.

There was blood on his hands from lazily catching himself. He’d accidentally stuck his hand in the open chest cavity, smiling sadly and laughing again. It was bullshit, and he was so out of it. He most definitely had a concussion, the world swirling around him and turning sideways as he hit the plastic tray everyone was set on.

His hand weakly reached out in front of his eyes, crimson liquid smearing. His eyes might’ve been closing, and he might’ve been confused all to hell, but he knew one thing.

  
The second they got where they were going, he’d be fucking fighting for a chance to live.

Only one of them would be walking away.

When he came to, he wasn’t certain which one of them it would be. The van doors were open and the mid-day air was warm. Ant had been removed from the van already, and Bad was actively being pulled out by the pinkette. Dream pulled himself up, trying to crawl up to the bars in the back seat. It worked, using the metal rods to lift himself up.

He was weak, but he knew to surrender. Quit while you’re ahead, people always told him. He managed to tilt his head upwards so he could look at the other. Bad’s body was set onto a cloth on the ground, stained with blood, and then folded up. Bile rose in his throat watching.   
  
“You’re awake.”   
  
It was the best look of the other’s face that he’d get. Pale and flushed somewhat, long hair up in a bun, eyes warm. It was gentle, it was caring. 

He hated it with a burning passion.

He didn’t answer them, reaching a hand out to find Skeppy wasn’t there anymore. His eyes were as wide as they’d get in his injured state. He went to open his mouth to ask a question, but he coughed instead, hand lazily coming up to try and cover his mouth; but it slowly slid back down when he saw the blood coating his palm.

“You could use a bath and a change of clothes.” Techno tied something around where he’d bunched the cloth up, it was a burlap sack. “Lucky for you, I have some that are a carbon copy of what you’re currently wearing.”   
  
He blonde scoffed, eyes looking around the blood stained walls of the back of the van. “So that’s where my sweater went. I didn’t lose it…” He’d given up his vow of silence.   
  
“But of course.” He pulled on Dream’s ankle, the blonde gripping the metal bars tighter. Anything could be waiting for him outside and he was too weak as of now. His grip slipped off the bars and he dropped the half-foot that was between the floor of the back of the van and the dirty ground.   
  
The other dragged him over to a side entrance where there were bodies hanging off of hooks. They were pale and dehydrated, and he was dragged past buckets set underneath them. Buckets of blood. He tried to stand up, to get traction on the floor, but it was a sort of slippery granite. He was dragged past a headless body still wearing its apron and pants.    
  
He knew these bodies.   
  
Ant was already hung up on one of the hooks, the least dry of them all and visibly draining. He saw the dismembered parts of Sapnap all held together by a strong twine. Then there was George, lacking one arm and his head.

He sniffled, but he didn’t cry, yelling out when he was thrown through an open door and it was locked behind him. Not just any lock, a sort of bar coming down to keep it closed. He groggily pulled himself up to look through the window at the smiling pinkette’s face.    
  
It was cold. It was cold and there were piles of packaged meats. He was in the freezer. 

“Look, I have to get to work. So you just stay here, looking all nice and pretty alright? Try not to scream, I’ll take you to your new home after I’m done here.” Techno waved through the window in the door and went off elsewhere, leaving the blonde in the cold.   
  
“...Fuck.” He turned around to see a human leg upright against one of the stacks. He shifted against one of the bare walls, hugging himself with bloody hands. He fucking hated it here.   
  
He was starting to want to go against his original plan of waiting till he was stronger before leaving. He wanted out.   
  
He was still dazed, but had enough awareness to recognize a scream from Skeppy. He went up to the window, looking out and locking eyes with Skeppy before the other was thrown up and onto a metal table, wrists in leather cuffs that’d usually house pig hooves so the animal wouldn’t scramble away.   
  
Dream watched as Techno stook a knife into a regular wooden cutting board. “Hi there.”   
  
The raven was pulling at the leather binds, blood dried on their forehead. “What the hell-”   
  
“No need to get angry.” The pinkette spun around, grabbing large rubber gloves and pulling them on. An apron went over their head and tied around their waist, hands moving to untie the string of the burlap sack. The blonde saw the horror on Skeppy’s face as Bad’s body slumped out of the cloth, Techno dragging it across the floor to hang up on a free hook.   
  
He made precise cuts along major arteries, making sure they’d not burst, just bleed. The blood was draining, falling into the bucket below.    
  
“What kind of pork dish is your favorite Skeppy Ahmed?” Techno turned towards his shackled victim, smiling. “Cause I’ll be making it for you. You’re a little on the thinner side as of now, and I hope I can get that to change.”

The raven continued to thrash, looking over and seeing Dream through the small window. The blonde beat his fists against the metal yelling out for Skeppy.    
  
He watched a knife go right next to the raven’s head so they’d stay still. “What are you gonna do- kill me? You’re that guy that went after Dream.” He acted so brave, unafraid and not worrying about whatever was to happen.   
  
“I am. It brings me great joy to know you are so close to my soulmate to know such a thing.” Techno was smirking, sharpening a few tools.   
  
From behind the window, Dream watched a strange wave of emotions gloss over Skeppy. “So we were set up?” The raven met eyes with the scared blonde. “Dream did that on purpose- he led you to us?”   
  
“But of course, my honeypie is so loyal-” Techno clapped his hands together, holding them up to his cheek and batting his eyelashes. Dream wanted to cry out, to scream. He fell against the door, relinquishing his promise to himself of no more tears. He didn’t lead the killer to them, well he did; but he didn’t mean for them to get hurt.

He hit his head on the same spot he’d been hit in the van, brain short circuiting for a second. He didn’t want them hurt. He just wanted to be safe for once it… Was it because he was so selfish? Everything was good before this. He had an education in Technology that he was actively pursuing. He had a job, he had friends.

  
Now his friends were dead and turning against him.   
  
“He’s honestly so perfect, y’know? Pretending to attack him was just the start. Get him known, get him an alibi of his own. No one would ever suspect the survivor to be the assistant. He was a scared little bird.” Techno was smiling, grabbing a knife and going to skin Bad. It was an interesting process, slicing the skin just so, no blood trickling out while he took off pieces.   
  
The muscle was next, slicing right under the other kneecap. He set it down on the cutting board at Skeppy’s feet, splitting the leg lengthwise and gently severing the muscles attached to the bones and just popping out both the tibia and fibula. He waved them in front of Skeppy’s face with a smile.   
  
“Humans are disgusting animals. You know? Greasy little pigs.”   
  
Skeppy wasn’t dawdling on what he’d been told about the traitor, what he’d been told about Dream. “That's why you cut them up that way, right?”   
  
“So you’ve heard of me other than the relation to my sweetie?” Techno set the layer of skin back over both pieces, using a string to tie it in three parts.   
  
He opened the freezer door, Dream falling out and at his feet. The blonde went to get up, only to be pushed and shoved back down to the ground with a yelp, the skinned meat set to rest on a nearby table.    
  
Skeppy heard the yelp, noticing the captured Dream. “For being your soulmate, you hardly treat him as such-”   
  
“S’all a show. He can’t hear us, so he thinks he has to keep pretending.”   
  
That was a lie, Dream could hear them, bloody palms splayed on the window and face shouting through. He could hear them, but they couldn’t hear him.   
  
“That so?” The raven had given up being scared. “So what’s your plan?”   
  
“Skin you alive unless you tell me anyone else that Dream has relation to- whether it be friends, past lovers; anything.” The knife he’d used to skin Bad glinted in the dim lighting of the slaughterhouse.    
  
“...How much do you want to know?”   



	4. Chapter Three - The Detective and The Gullible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno heads to Dunes, California to retrieve a set of items.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is slightly shorter than the others! I'm so incredibly sorry, but I didn't want it to be late. The next chapter should be around 7k words or so to make up for this one being only about 3k
> 
> ALSO- Here is the Spotify playlist incase any of you missed it :D  
> [ RIGHT HERE ](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/5EC0kD4EyNhBUSklffxnev?si=_kPVyGcMQRuqzUoM7eQhaA)

Dream slid down the door again, curling into a ball against it. He was cold, unbelievably cold. Not just because of the temperature, but that a friend thought he’d betray them. The icy ground was welcoming, his mind shutting down. Skeppy would be dead soon and would die thinking Dream was some sort of monster leading lambs to the slaughter.

Pigs to the slaughter.

He laughed in the cold space, looking around. Some of the things inside the freezer weren’t human, some actual animal meat and an ice pick. His hands shot towards the pick, grabbing it and going to break the glass. He stabbed at it, but it wouldn’t budge, wouldn’t even crack. He could still save it for later though, shoving it into his boot perfectly angled so it wouldn’t stab him.   
  
He saw Techno’s head snap towards the glass, staring at him while whispering something to Skeppy.   
  
“Fundy.” The raven stared down at the ground. They weren’t proud to throw a friend under the bus for their own survival, but that's what was happening. “Head detective down in Dunes.” He grimaced at Techno sliding the skinning tool against the metal table. It was a horrid sound, making him look up at the killer.   
  
“Relation to Blondie?” The pinkette turned away from Skeppy, packing his tools up.    
  
“Past lover. Fiance right out of highschool. But you know- they couldn’t get married. For legal reasons of course.” Techno had dropped his tools, slowly turning to stare through the pane of glass on the door dividing him from his soulmate.   
  
“Oh? He never told me.”   
  
“Probably had good reasons. The guy was a jealous bitch. Rarely let Dream spend time with his friends.”    
  
Techno nodded, patting Skeppy on the shoulder. “Thank you.” He put his tools up on a table that was stained with dried blood, shedding his gloves and setting them down too to exit the slaughterhouse into the main shop.   
  
His boots tapped against wood, sliding behind the counter of the deli and shuffling through a pile of papers. A whole study, report even, on all the people he’d killed so far. He recognized the name.

Someone who was a lead on his case at one point, before he met Dream; before he tried to kill Dream. He smiled, realizing he’d already had a research paper on the man. It was even better when he found out that the detective lived alone.

He could make quick work of them, bring Dream home and then go out. Techno nodded to himself, grabbing his papers and locking the cabinet he had gotten them from. The key went into the pocket of his apron and he was back in the slaughterhouse, smiling. “Thank you, Skeppy. You were a big help.”   
  
“So… You’ll let me go right? I won’t tell the cops I mean- I don’t even know who you are or where we are.” The other was speaking fast, nervous.   
  
“Hmmm… Not yet. I need more than one person.” He walked past the other, opening the freezer door and slamming Dream’s head against the door to knock the blonde out. It worked, Techno picking him up like a child and waving to Skeppy as he walked out; he left the raven behind to put his passed out soulmate in the van again.   
  
He’d decided against cleaning up any of the blood in the back, gently setting the blonde down. They looked peaceful, covered in blood and passed out. A smile spread across the pinkette’s face, leaning down to kiss their sore forehead. New hearts appeared on Techno’s arm and he watched the same happen to the blonde.

It was great. He just needed Dream to see how great it was. The blonde was obviously a fighter, which would pose a problem. A huge problem. He didn’t know how he’d get the other to just… Stop fighting. He didn’t want to use violence, but it was looking like he’d need to.

He gently cupped the sleeping blonde’s cheek, smiling wide and ruffling up their hair before closing; locking the van doors. He was debating taking the blonde home already or just keeping him in the back while he went and took care of that stupid detective.    
  
He settled on taking the blonde home, turning the key in the ignition and pulling out onto the road. He’d set the blonde up in the bathroom with some clothes and lock it. He smiled as he went down the road, humming the same song that’d been stuck in his head the night of Dream’s almost-murder.   
  
_ “Love me, love me… Say that you love me...” _

He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, being careful around the corners so Dream didn’t get tossed around more than needed. He had friends in high places, he’d just need time to get in contact. His soulmate would be his, and that fighting spirit would eventually die down. It needed to- it  _ had _ to. 

He’d pulled into the garage quickly, picking his blondie up again and walking into the house. All the windows were locked from the outside and kept in place by deadbolts, there was no way anything was getting in or out unless he let them do so.   
  
The blonde was set down in the upstairs bathroom tub,Techno leaving for just a second to grab those replacement clothes he’d talked about. An exact copy of Dream’s current attire, just clean. He’d leave the other to change, making sure there was nothing Dream could use as a possible weapon or tool to escape in the room. He nodded, happy with his removal of a crowbar he’d left in there previously.   
  
The door was locked and a chair was set underneath the doorknob, an extra precaution; a  _ just in case _ . He couldn’t help but be paranoid about the other escaping. They’d try to do so multiple times already.   
  
He patted the door, smiling and walking through the halls. There was a certain trick to the front door, pulling the handle up and pushing out to get it open. He smiled stepping out onto the porch and locking his house behind him, swirling the keyring around his finger. He’d have his blonde in time, it was guaranteed.    
  
Even if they didn’t like him now, he knew he’d have them eventually.   
  
The long drive back into California was boring alone, radio playing the recent hits. He’d eventually found his way there, covering his face with the mask he always did and grabbing his sword from underneath the passenger seat. The van was parked off the road, hidden by the nearing trees.    
  
He was a shadow in the late-afternoon, searching and stalking for a detective.

Which was incredibly close, seeing as his papers told him that their house wasn’t too far away. The pinkette ran through their usual routine. Lock all windows by making them unopenable or actually locked, lock doors, Use a backup knife to lodge it into the door he came through just so that it wouldn’t be openable if you didn’t know about the weapon.

He heard someone swear, a foreign accent he hadn’t heard much of. Ever.

He was humming that same song from the radio, smitten and finding a detective to dice. Boots gently pushed against an ornate carpet, ears drawn towards the sound of a phone being taking off the landline. He was quick to dart over, cutting the cord and pushing the blade up against the man’s neck, pinning him to the wall.    
  
They’d tilted their head back out of reflex, looking up at their soon-to-be murderer. “The Blade. Finally come for me, huh?” He said it as if Techno was his long-standing rival.    
  
Which pissed the pinkette off, pushing the sword harder against their throat and drawing small little beads of crimson. Not a slit throat, and not a fatal injury, but certainly something that’d be dangerous. “I’m here for one thing. The rings.” He punched the other in the face, moving the blade back in perfect timing so they’d not accidentally be killed early.   
  
“What rings-”   
  
“Your ex-fiance.” He slid the sword up slightly, forcing the other's head back just a little bit more. He wasn’t a killer that talked, out of his comfort zone like this. “The rings from that. Engagement bands.”   
  
The detective looked frightened by the fact Techno knew of his secret love. “You really do know a shit ton of stuff about your victims.” The ginger-haired detective pushed the killer back, slamming a fist against the wall and then into the side of Techno’s jaw. It gave the man time to scramble out of the way, only to get a heavy-weight tackling them to the ground.    
  
“I know you live alone and have no immediate family that’d know of your death. I know you won’t be at work for another two days so that gives me enough time to make it look like you just disappeared off the face of the Earth- rings.  _ Now _ .”   
  
“I can’t get them if you’re on top of me!” The detective got an elbow to the nape of their neck.    
  
“Tell me where they are.” The pinkette applied a bit more pressure, keeping the ginger’s head against the carpet.    
  
“Bedroom- in the top drawer of the dresser-” With the slightest bit of moment, the detective couldn’t breathe. The assailant was cold and unrelenting, choking the detective from behind. He was crushing their windpipe, waiting for them to eventually die.

It was slow and painful, but the detective had stopped squirming. They’d finally lacked a pulse. The pinkette stood up, doing his best to not touch anything except for the drawer in the bedroom. He had eliminated possible competition, and scored some rings; a successful trip. The body was dragged out the backdoor, and stuffed into the back of the van. Techno was humming, just like always.

It was always smooth, always over with nearly just as quick as it’d started. He licked his lips, reminding himself of the delicious chase. Dream had been so appealing in his need to get away, the injuries he’d gathered were delectable. It was like a game of cat and mouse but the mouse was already in the cat’s paws from the very beginning. The outcome was decided before the game had started.

The world decided Techno would be the winner.

He took his prize with glee, setting the rings down in the cupholder; he was gracing the world with a small smile. He didn’t have proper plans for his next course of action, just a loose idea of a string of events. He closed his eyes, leaning back in the seat with that stupid crazed smile.

The pinkette started up the van, hearing the radio blare to life in the middle of a song. He was listening to the words echoing in the closed space.   
  
It really was a nice day for a white wedding.

Ideas were popping in his head and he couldn’t help but stare down at the rings while the lyrics went in one ear and right out of the other one.

\---

A blonde had woken in a bathtub, scared all to hell and going to scramble out and onto the floor. He huffed, eyes darting around the space. It took a good few minutes to realize he was alone, jumping up to fiddle with the doorknob. Dream wasn’t worried about anything in the room with him, just worried about leaving it.

He struggled for a good few minutes before giving up and pressing his face against the wood. He could tell something was blocking the way, but he didn’t know what, sighing, and closing his eyes. 

He was ready to scream, ready to cry, but he forced himself to do neither. He’d done enough screaming and crying, just like he’d done enough running.   
  
He slipped the ice pick out of his shoe, smashing it against the door knob and overall fucking it up. He removed the knob by the shank and started jiggling the pick against the spindle for the exterior knob to hit the floor with a loud sound.   
  
He was able to push the door open now, noticing the chair that’d been placed underneath the handle.   
  
Dream grimaced when looking out in the hallway. It was dark in both directions, no discernable features or light switches.   
  
The blonde decided on changing into the cleaner outfit first, pulling the door somewhat closed to have as much privacy as he could in the moment. He saw the scar from the knife that’d just barely missed the subclavian artery. It was horrid and right at the spot where his shoulder and arm were joining.

He rubbed at it, attention drawn due to the situation. Every other time, he’d rarely spared a glance; but now, he was in the clutches of the man who had created it. The collared shirt was immediately pulled over his head, and he was happy to be out of the grubby and bloody clothes.

One thought occurred after he patted down the fresh green sweater. He had a house to scour for escape routes.

Dream was back out in the hallway, looking down both dark paths and eventually taking the one to the right. He splayed his fingers against the wall, making sure to hug it so he wouldn’t run into it. The blonde spared a last glance at the bathroom, the only source of light before he’d plunged into the darkness.   
  
He’d lost all sense of direction, the bathroom far. The freckled-male was relieved to brush his fingers against a lightswitch.   
  
_ Holy Shit. _   
  
His eyes glanced around, even turning back in the dark hallway. The bathroom light was still on, and not even 20 feet away.   
  
He didn’t believe his eyes, a perfect replica of his own house. Or, a perfect replica of his living room. The same turquoise vase on the coffee table, the same couch, the same color of paint on the walls. Dream started hugging himself, staring down at the same carpet that should’ve had blood on it, or at least a stain.   
  
He huffed, stepping off the carpet and looking around. It was a medium for a few doors, the first on the right just being a closet filled with coats and cleaning supplies. The next one on the right was another bathroom.

He looked over to the left, a seemingly innocent office or study. The other was filled to the brim with boxes, possible storage. His feet took him through the archway to another familiar room. It was again, his own dinette and adjacent kitchen. Dream was just extremely creeped out at this point.   
  
It felt comforting, being in ‘his own home’, but he knew it wasn’t. The furniture layout was the same, the marble countertop, the cabinets, but the rooms weren’t. He didn’t have four doors in his living room and…   
  
And his landline had not been removed.   
  
He grazed his fingers along the blank expanse of wall next to the archway, seeing the paint that’d been scuffed up from something nearly ripped off the wall. A quick look at his front door showed that there were a shit ton of locks on it, at least three requiring keys and the others just being deadbolts.

Stuff that’d just take up time to undo in an escape attempt.

He was starting to realize that any sort of escape would be virtually impossible as of now. He didn’t give up though, heading to all the windows he could see. Each had a small metal-bar spanning them on the other side, keeping the window in place even when unlocked.

There was one more thing off with this living room. There was no staircase.

Dream reasoned that it might be on the other side of the house, heading back into the somewhat dark hallway. He’d found the light switch that was on the side he hadn’t hugged before, flicking it on to look down the way.   
  
Lights all along the ceiling, and photos lining the palace, spaced out about 5 feet in between each frame. Upon closer inspection, they were all of _ him _ . He stepped back, walking in the center of the hall and passing the bathroom again.

The staircase was just at the end of the hall, no back door or anything. Just steps to climb.

He went up, sighing and seeing a similar hallway ligned with photographs. Some seemingly taken through his windows, through his friend’s apartment windows, from inside the coffee shop. God, he hated it here even more than before.

The blonde swallowed roughly, taking note of another bathroom, and two bedrooms. Pushing open the doors revealed a Queen-size bed in one with a tacky quilt covering it. The other was an almost exact replica of his own bedroom. 

The similarities stopped with his rotary phone have been replaced with a framed picture of George and Sapnap.

He looked over it, picking it up to get an even closer look. It looked like a professional had done it, trees in the back as if taken at some sort of park.

He didn’t notice he was crying until there were small droplets of water on the glass. He was sniffling, rubbing at his face with his sleeve. He was alone in this house that had replicas of some of his own rooms, and a photo of his dead friends.

He allowed himself to sob while alone.

  
\---

  
The pinkette was back in his shop, glancing over his captive that’d eventually fallen asleep in the chair he sat in. A quick glance at the clock showed he’d been gone nearly three hours, it made sense. “Rise and shine, buddy.” He smacked the other on the side of the head. “I’ve got a question.”   
  
“...What-”   
  
“Any alive family members?”   
  
“...Just his mom and siblings, but they all live down in Florida.” Skeppy was so stupid, running his mouth and helping this killer.    
  
Techno nodded, hands shifting around his tools. “You’ve been a big help, y’know?” The murderer smiled, picking up a cloth and a jerry can full of water. “I greatly appreciate all you’ve done.” He looked over the other, keeping his items out of sight. “Thank you, Skeppy.”   
  
“I get to go now, right?”   
  
“...Of course not.” He set the rag on the other’s face and started pouring the water. Any starts of screams were muffled, Techno water-boarding the other. This wasn’t for torture though, he was just killing the other by aphyxiation. He smiled, water pouring without breaks.

Dry-drowning, they called it.

He hadn’t stopped until the can was empty, smirking down at his newest body. He made slashes on the achille’s tendons, down the arms, fabric cut around the spots. Skeppy was hung up on his last available hook, Techno was happy to watch the blood start to drain.

He smiled, turning away and going to leave once again. He’d tied up a loose end and he had nothing left to do today except head home. He could speed up the bleeding process, but that could possibly ruin the meat.

He didn’t want to ruin the meat, pulling onto the road and heading to the place he’d left his soulmate. His own home.

It wasn’t far, hands holding onto the rings he’d nabbed and three separate keys. He unlocked those three locks, opening the door. He couldn’t hear his soulmate, but he saw all the lights on, peering around corners. “Dream?”   
  
He did hear a shuffling noise from directly above him, making a B-line to the staircase and climbing it. His next plan of action was to peer into the blonde’s room, leaning against the doorframe with a smile.   
  
He’d leaned in, interlacing his fingers with the blonde’s and noticing another small heart appear. Pink on the other and green on himself. “Do you like it?” He’d set his head on the other’s shoulder, Techno’s words a whisper in Dream’s ears. “I did it just for you.”   



	5. Chapter Four - The Teenager and the Clueless Parent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream is still trapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GOD CAN I STOP GIVING YOU GUYS SUCH SHORT CHAPTERS????
> 
> Honestly, I might take next week Wednesday off so I have more time to write a lot more. This chapter is only like 3k words when I promised 7k! Goddamnit! Tell me in the comments what you'd prefer, more words and skipping next week or less words and updating next week.
> 
> This chapter is… A sort of gift to 'SkyeTheTsubaki' because they comment on almost EVERY chapter and it’s always a joy to see them. (Everyone else with your comments, I see them and love them; but this person always stands out to me; and has since the beginning)
> 
> This is for all of you readers, but there are some things in this chapter this person might really like :)
> 
> Also a quick warning- Dream kind of threatens to kill himself in this chapter but it’s a small thing. Heads up for that the text is in bold so you can skip that part if need be :3

No. He did not fucking like it at all. He wanted to pull away, but Dream’s feet kept him grounded. He was stuck in the spot, clutching the frame.

He set it down on the nightstand again, grasping at the empty air with his free hand. He felt like trash, holding in a sniffle and forcing his tears to dry up. "You… Have me now." He wasn't answering the other's words, rubbing at his nose. "So what're you gonna do? Tie me up, torture me, do depraved things, kill me?" There were many horrible deeds on Dream's mind.

"Dream, listen to me." The blonde winced at a hand cupping his cheek. "Why would I ever hurt my soulmate?" 

Freckled cheeks sunk in some, teeth biting down on soft tissue. "I dunno. Because you killed all my friends, you kidnapped me-"

He was cut off, the hand on his cheek retracting. Dream was glad to be rid of the touch. "I haven't killed all your friends." Shuffling caught the blonde's attention, a hand ruffling through a pocket and pulling out two strikingly familiar gold bands. "I've only killed the ones that pose a threat, and there are still more to come on top of that."   
  
Red eyes were bright and in a lovesick haze, emerald staring within and becoming mesmerized. Those rubies that once scared the hell out of him and haunted his nightmares were right here and in his life. He didn’t like it.

The blonde looked away, it was awkward it was fucking awful. Almost like the calming aura was forced. It wanted him to relax, soulmate biology wanted him to feel safe and loved. It was too forced, he wasn’t going to fall for it.

A pale hand untangled from a scarred one, stepping back from the killer. “You’re crazy.”   
  
“Maybe.”   
  
They’d already had this conversation in the van, there was nothing more he could say. Nothing more that he could do but look down at the pink and green hearts coating his arm like notes on a staff that’d create a symphony. “I know you didn’t just knock on someone’s door for those rings.” He’d gathered courage knowing he wouldn’t be killed or attacked. Dream was quick to leave the room and look around the hallway.   
  
“Oh. He screamed.” The detective hadn’t actually, but he didn’t put up too much of a fight either. “So fucking loud. Thought I was gonna go deaf, sweetheart.” Techno was following the other, hazy and smiling.   
  
Dream hated how nice the smile looked on the killer’s face.

He’d started thinking in the middle of the hallway. He’d started thinking on how excited he once was to meet his soulmate. If only the young and naive Dream could see him now, could possibly avoid this. He was stuck, palm itching to hold hands with the still happy pinkette.   
  
He hated it all, the lovesick buzz making him uncomfortable with the way it tickled at the back of his throat. It was like a parasite trying to infect him.

Every pair of soulmates, two things remain the same. The hearts show up whenever at least one of the mates thinks of something as a romantic or intimate moment; and whatever amount of passion one soulmate comes at their partner with, the other will meet them with the same or even more in time.   
  
He was scared of this. He was still lucid as of now, but he didn’t know how long it would last. Maybe that idea of staying until he was confident in escape was a bad thing. Maybe he needed to get out now.

Maybe he’d eventually find himself crawling back on his own, a slave to passion. He’d be blinded by love, just wanting to be with the other.   
  
The realization made him lean against one of the walls, looking across the way at the man that was the same height as him. He’d never be free, he was destined to fall into this guy’s clutches.

Dream could see it now, turning away and finding his way back to the staircase. “What about my job.”   
  
“You’re going to get fired if you don’t show up.”   
  
“People will look for me, they know I wouldn’t just disappear.” He was descending, the other following him around like a lost puppy.   
  
“I’ll deal with that when the time comes.” That stupid itch was gone when what would be a blood-stained hand held onto his own. He was hating this, shaking ever-so slightly. “You’re mine now, you always were going to be. You know that, right?”   
  
Dream didn’t answer, turning away swiftly and wincing when the other gently squeezed his hand. It was a comforting gesture but it just made his stomach turn and bile scratch at his throat like the lovebug did.

He wasn’t going to answer, taking his hand back and going properly down the stairs. Maybe it wasn’t the best idea to explore and try to find escape routes with your captor following you, but it was something to distract Dream from the other. The windows were still blocked like earlier and that room still looked like it’d been taken out of his home.   
  
Nothing had changed, nothing was going to.

It was a sick metaphor, his new home like his old one. A sign that he was always meant to be here, that he already was here when the killer first went after him.   
  
Dream startled at a string being looped around his neck, one of the gold bands hanging off of it.   
  
“Keep that safe, y’know?” God they were so unconditionally adoring and it made the blonde sick, so sick. He put a fist to his mouth, fighting the urge to gag and staring off at one of the paintings on the wall. He had the same one, so of course it’d be here.   
  
“Y-Yeah.” His voice was wavering and his body was shaking, fingers coming up to inspect the band. “I’ll keep it safe.” He hadn’t touched it in nearly 2 years, remembering a happy face framed with ginger hair slipping it onto his finger.    
  
The hand that’d been holding his went and planted itself in blonde hair, patting and toying with the fluffy-ish curls. “Goddamnit, Dream.” They’d said nothing more, hand slipping away and smile slowly dropping. “You were such a pain to get to.” Their face was dead-set on showing no emotions but there was still a hazy gleam of affection in dead rubies. “If you ever find a way to escape this house I  _ will _ hunt you down and I  _ will _ drag you back by your fucking hair if I have to.”   
  
Dream looked away, eyes searching a blank wall and a hand splaying against it.   
  
“You’re not fucking getting away. You left once and you will not be leaving again.” The pinkette turned away, walking off and to the massive door. Three separate keys, three separate locks. 

Dream took his chance, yelling out. Yelling so that anyone around could hear him. “I’m fucking trapped in here by some psychopath!” He wasn’t scared to defy his captor, he had the advantage here.   
  
His mind started to run and his ears picked up on someone outside commenting on his words.    
  
Techno did not look happy and those keys were locking him in from the outside now.   
  
The door was thick, but with an ear pressed up against it he heard a single crack and then the sound of a kid sniffling. Another death that was caused by his hands and a yelp. The door opened and the blonde could sneak a peek at what seemed to be a middle-aged man and who could presumably be his son.   
  
Techno was back inside. “I can’t even leave the house without you being difficult.”    
  
His mind was running again, thinking of ways to use this to his advantage. If his killer wouldn’t hurt him could he threaten to hurt himself- threaten to do anything?   
  
**He pulled the icepick back out of his boot and held it up to his throat. “I want out.” This was the scariest thing he’d done in his life, and he’d outran a killer inside of a closed space. “If I die, then you can’t have me- let me out or I kill myself.”**   
  
**He was shaking, it was a bluff; but maybe the other was dumb enough to fall for it.** **  
** **  
** **“Where’d you get that-” The hardened voice was softer, rubber gloves having been pulled onto hands from that closet full of cleaning supplies. “Where did you get that weapon and where did you get that idea-”** **  
** **  
** **This was exactly what he wanted, he had power; he had leverage. “Techno I swear to god- I will stab this through my throat and I will puncture the jugular and start bleeding out in this room. Let me go.”** **  
** **  
** **Maybe he shouldn’t’ve tried this on his first day in captivity.** **  
** **  
** **“I can’t do that.” The killer walked closer, stopping when he noticed that the pointed metal properly touched skin right above the adam's apple. “I’m not going to do that, Dream.” They weren’t falling for empty threats, they’d done enough; Techno was smarter than the blonde would think. “If you punctured there you wouldn’t even die- that’s where most surgeons make incisions to intubate people.” The killer came forward, gripping the weapon and working it out of the blonde’s hand. “I’m hurt that you’d threaten your own life, you’re precious, Dream.” That soft voice was back almost immediately and it sent chills down the blonde’s spine.**   
  
“What else can I do!” He was yelling, rubbing at where he’d nearly stabbed himself. “You’ve made it obvious I’m not leaving but I  _ want to go _ -”   
  
“You don’t need to leave!” The pinkette was grasping his hands tightly, the corner of his mouth quivering. He had aggression he needed to get out but refused to. "I know where your family is located, Dream. Don't make it come down to your mom and little sister on the line."

"Shut up- shut up!" The blonde covered his mouth with a hand. "Leave my family alone- leave them-" Okay maybe he didn't fully have the upperhand like he thought he did. Maybe he was doomed.

Okay, he  _ was _ doomed. There was no way around it and no possible escape. "I'll leave your family alone if you  _ behave _ ." 

Freckled cheeks gained slight dimples, emerald eyes darkened, and the blonde grasped at his arms. He felt like a dog on a tight leash. This fucker was just waiting for him to warm up to them. Keeping him captive until he properly loved him back.

This was some extremely tainted love and he found himself laughing, openly giggling until he started crying. He'd made promises to himself, to other people; he'd lost what this was originally about. Survival.

But at this point, he didn't want to survive, just for this bitch to be long gone. Through his tears, he felt confident.

It wasn't a matter of him being stuck with Techno.

Techno was stuck with  _ him _ now.

"We'll uhm- we'll see about that." His stupid confidence would always get the best of him, blind judgment and falling headfirst into the worst decisions. "You've… Been busy-" He had to ask himself why he was still talking and it hit him.

If Techno was stuck with him he'd be preventing other people's deaths. The longer he stalled the longer the pinkette would be by his side and it was distracting them from killing.

He owed it to the people that'd already fallen in his selfish endeavors. Dream was making a new promise now. It didn't matter if he risked his happiness to try and guarantee the safety of others.

"Look, I need to go out now-" The pinkette opened the door, pulling the bodies in before anyone could see them. "Keep Mr. Schlatt company, why don'tchya?" He patted the dead man and smiled. "Horrible person, truly."

The blonde had been around enough death within just a few days, nodding slowly. Dream gently wiped his tears. It was all moving too fast and every interaction with his killer felt forced. 

It was like he was making a big deal or a scene out of something that they could easily settle like a couple.   
  
They weren’t a couple.   
  
They weren’t going to be a couple.   
  
Not yet at least.   
  
Dream was priding himself in that fact, fighting until he couldn’t anymore. His brain was flip-flopping and it fucked with him so much. He didn’t truly know what he wanted anymore, all his plans had been turned on their heads. The blonde was dazed at this point, no longer having a proper sense of mind.   
  
Fight or flight didn’t exist for him anymore. They’d both been combined and he was flipping between the two. He was confused, saying one thing and doing the other; making up his mind on something and ignoring the decision he’d made.   
  
Dream had told himself so many things over and over again. But now he was realizing that it was all just wishful thinking.   
  
None of his plans would come to fruition. He could see it all now. His hopes were just that- hoping. He was stuck here.   
  
There was no more telling himself he was sick of running or sick of hiding. Neither were options now. Unless he got time to himself and went over any hiding spaces with a fine-tooth comb, he was done for.   
  
The ring hanging off of his neck would definitely be the first thing that’d be thrown out. Dream grasped it firmly, tugging. He could easily just pull it off. Defiance was going to be his best friend now, the one form of protest he had left. “Fuck you, Techno.” He turned around, shaking and finding his way back down that hallway and up the stupid stairs.   
  
This house was like a prison, a fortress that was keeping him trapped inside.   
  
Nothing was impossible to escape from.   
  
It was a new promise to himself, his mind flip-flopping once again.   
  
He could do his best and he could most likely escape. Yeah, he’d eventually find himself crawling back but before that he could give himself time. People could die, he didn’t care.   
  
No, he did care and that’s the problem.   
  
He couldn’t make up his mind about anything, confused all to hell. “Go and fuck yourself.” He climbed the stairs, finding his way to the identical bedroom and hearing it lock behind him.    
  
He wasn’t going to get hurt from now on, he could do whatever he wanted really. Endless escape attempts, meeting the strange passion that Techno was coming at him with.    
  
He felt like shit, that photo of his friends mocking him. He picked it up and threw the frame at the wall, hearing the glass break and watching it scatter in the carpet. The blonde fell against the door, sitting and holding his head in his hands.    
  
For the unforeseeable future he was stuck in this god awful house.

  
\---   


  
Techno didn’t like the defiance, but he wouldn’t dare do anything, able to also hear the shattering picture frame. He’d just shrugged it off, grabbing both of the bodies and dragging them out front and around the back. Mr. Schlatt was his cranky next-door neighbor and that child was his son Tubbo.    
  
He scoffed, loading up his van and closing the two doors behind the dead man and his dead child.    
  
He double checked that the front-door was locked before getting in the van and driving off. He had to turn the radio down, the words of the band Soft Cell aggravated him. Tainted Love was not what he had with Dream. What he had, and was going to have, was pure.    
  
He’d only turned the music back to full blast when The Human League had met his ears. Something he could deal with and something he found mostly true. Dream wasn’t a waitress in a cocktail bar, but he was a barista in a coffee shop.   
  
His mind had picked up the words from deep within his memory and he was quick to sing along. “ _ Don’t you want me, baby? _ ” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel in time with the synth chords. “ _ Don’t- you want me, oh- _ ”   
  
Techno was just a human, he liked listening and singing along to music. He loved a person and he loved his own family.

He might’ve threatened them, but he’d never hurt Dream’s family. They were going to be his own after all, waiting for the blonde to come around and finally accept him.   
  
He could wait it out, however long it was going to take. It’d be worth it.   
  
“ _ It's much too late to find… You think you've changed your mind. _ ” He was jamming on the way to Arizona, internally cursing at the fact his station was far from his residence and usual killing spot. “ _ You'd better change it back or we will both be sorry. _ ”   
  
The chorus echoed on the road, the pinkette smiling.    
  
_ Don’t you want me baby? _ __  
_  
_ __ Don’t you want me? Oh.


	6. Chapter Five - The Nice Guy and The Skeptic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno takes care of his body count, just to make room for more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally I wasn't gonna post anything, but then I looked inside myself and said "Yo, I really want comments." SO-
> 
> Think of this chapter as some food and also a Q&A! Ask me anything in the comments about this story and I'll answer. Whether it be about plot or technical/inspiration stuff. I'll be answering as well as I can without spoilers.
> 
> ALSO- THE PLAYLIST GOT A MASSIVE UPDATE :)

The pinkette pulled a jacket over his shoulders, parking the car and walking out. He was still humming the last song that’d been on. “ _...I'm on the hunt, I'm after you- _ ” He mumbled a singular lyric, pushing open the door to the coffee shop and finding it was playing the same song. It was a simple routine, coming up to the counter with the early morning.   
  
Sleep and time weren’t really things that he paid attention to anymore; not for the past year at least. He hadn’t even realized his whole conversation with Dream had been at around 5 am.   
  
He wasn’t questioning why his neighbor and their kid were out at that time, but he wasn’t going to bother pondering the reasons.   
  
“A strawberry frappuccino, please” He patted his hands on the counter, watching one of the baristas nod. It wasn’t Dream, but it was a coworker, Techno starting to think. This guy would most definitely be a threat, Dream knew him, Dream could find him.   
  
He was plotting, watching the blonde pass him the drink and turn away. Techno lingered at the counter a second longer than he should’ve.   
  
“ _ And I’m hungry like the wolf… _ ” The voice of the band Duran Duran was the thing to break him out of his trance of plotting murder; he stepped away from the counter, standing off to the side so he could keep his eyes on the guy.   
  
Punz   
  
That was the name on the guy’s name tag, Techno turning away and mentally noting it. The pinkette’s hands slid over the cup, the icy chill not welcome in the semi-cold weather he’d been facing for the few minutes outside.

He couldn’t help but feel influenced, burying the urge to pounce and stab and bleed out someone, in favor of walking onto the street. His day had basically just started and he already had someone he wanted to hang up and drain; possibly skin them alive. He was working on that last bit, not knowing what he truly wanted to do yet.

He shook his head, hands back on the steering wheel and car radio blaring. He quickly turned it down, not even hearing what was playing at this point in time.    
  
The drive to his shop was just as long as it always was, hours upon hours spent in silence. The pinkette had fallen into a sort of trance, humming to nothing; a droning single note that became a melody within his mind but not in the still air of the van.   
  
The sour air had started to smell like rotting flesh quicker than Techno would’ve liked. He couldn’t truly tell, but he didn’t mind either way. The van had just pulled up to the shop, after all, the usual routine of dragging the bodies out and into his shop went along.   
  
He had no available hooks, the two stuffed into the freezer he trapped Dream in for momentary safe-keeping.   
  
With gloves pulled over his fingers and tools in hand, he got to work on the bodies he’d drained.   
  
His hip hit a table, elbow knocking a small device over. A little radio.   
  
He quickly turned it on before his hands got all bloody and started hearing some reporter talk about murders. The crimes that he specifically had committed.   
  
He fought the chuckles so that his hands would not shake as he went through the finite process of removing the bones from inside his victims. He just wanted the meat, the tender muscle and every last piece of tissue. Joints, ligaments, not all were necessary but some were delicacies if someone squinted.   
  
Dream’s name had been thrown around, Techno setting his sheets of removed skin onto a tanning rack. He listened, how the blonde had disappeared after the deaths of some people that could be connected directly to the freckled, perfect man.   
  
The pinkette shook his head, rubbing at his cheek with the back of a glove. He heard how the blonde was now suspicious. How Dream could have gone mad and killed his friends himself.   
  
Delusional.   
  
He didn’t need to listen to the report, wiping remnants of tissue onto his apron and turning the knob, and finally hearing songs hit his ears. The perfect working environment; Tears for Fears.   
  
_ Welcome to your life… There’s no turning back… _

He gently tapped his foot to the words and beat, humming and making a simple incision to separate the parts of the human- the pig.   
  
The terrible and gross livestock. Gluttonous lovers of punishment and bringers of the world’s downfall. They deserved to be treated just as they treated animals. They  _ are- were _ animals.   
  
_ Even while you sleep… We will find you… _   
  
“Acting on your best behavior-” He let the rest of the chorus play on its own, swaying slightly and scooping all of the chopped parts into a crate. The crate was shoved into the freezer and the man’s body was dragged out.   
  
Those simple slashes to drain the body that he’d done countless times were made again and he spun around, sashaying from side-to-side on his way back to the table; preparing to dissect his next victim.    
  
“It’s my own design, it’s my own remorse.” He was now fully into it, properly swaying while cut off clothing. “Help me to decide, help me make the most of freedom- and of pleasure, nothing ever lasts forever; everybody wants to rule the world!” He was smiling while he cut, in his own little world while chopping body parts off and separating everything.   
  
He had a little bucket of bones where he’d put the things that were most obviously belonging to a human. Other bones could be passed off as belonging to a pig when people were stupid and believed it.   
  
Techno was still singing along to the radio with a stupid grin and a serrated knife cutting open the shirt of Bad Noveschosch.    
  
He reminded himself of someone he knew, not from the papers but from traveling. A man who killed people and fed the bodies to the pigs on his farm. The pinkette chuckled, the sound the only thing in his slaughterhouse due to the song having ended and the next one not starting off.   
  
He was feeding his victims to people; the pigs in human form.   
  
He stepped back from the table, the chords of the next song coming on. Techno frowned, rolling his eyes since he’d just heard it the other day. In the end, he didn’t really mind, using a dull knife as a microphone and setting his proper scalpel down.   
  
He spun around, sliding his fingers over a counter. ‘“Sometimes I feel, I’ve got to-” He pumped a fist in the air in time with the sounding thumps. “Run away, I’ve got to!” He did it again. “Get away from the pain you drive into the heart of me.”   
  
He was grasping at the air, ignoring the body on the table so that he could just have fun. The body was completely forgotten within a second.   
  
“The love we share seems to go nowhere-” He spun around, closing his eyes and properly belting the lyrics. “And I’ve lost my light, for I toss and turn- I can’t sleep at night!” He let the radio sing the joining chorus, dancing all the way over to his freezer and moving the child onto the new one he’d made vacant.   
  
“Now, I know I've got to-” He put his fist in the air once again. “Run away, I've got to-” Once more. “Get away! You don't really want any more from me. To make things right, you need someone to hold you tight.” He was walking back over to his table after starting the draining process of the child, debating whether or not he should just throw the child out instead of going through the process of skinning them.

“And you think love is to pray, but I'm sorry, I don't pray that way!” The chorus had started again, dull knife set down and hands taking the child off the hook. He carried the small kid out back, out of range of hearing his music and dumping the body into a pre-dug grave. He had many of these; he’d killed a few people that he didn’t want to chop up.   
  
Techno found the shovel he used laying against the wall of his slaughterhouse, burying Tubbo in the Arizona dirt.

He wiped the sweat off his forehead, hating how the Arizona afternoon could be much hotter than California during the Fall season. He bobbed his head from side to side with the music still in his mind.   
  
After the kid was nice and hidden, he put the shovel back and returned to hear a completely different song had started and already gotten half-way through

_ That's the night that the lights went out in Georgia. _   
  
He didn’t know this song, curious and tilting his head while he went back to work.   
  
_ That’s the night that they hung an innocent man. _   
  
He started properly listening, noticing the lyrics were basically telling a story. Some man’s wife cheated on him and when he came home he found her dead. He fired his own gun to alert the police, but was wrongly accused- the people thinking he’d killed her with that shot.   
  
He shook his head while the song was fading out, shoving Bad into another crate and moving him to the freezer. Whatever had started playing next; he wasn’t paying attention to. The sound of the bell on the door of his shop had jingled. 

He took off his gloves, walking out of the slaughterhouse and into the main shop to see a woman at the counter. “Ma’am, I’m sorry but Im not-”   
  
“I know you’re closed, but really quickly I just need to buy a ham.”   
  
The pinkette nodded, putting on some disposable gloves and wrapping something in paper and bags. He handed it across the counter taking off the gloves and throwing them away to ring the lady up. Ten dollars for ten pounds. She bid him farewell and walked off, getting into a car with kids in the back.   
  
He waited and made sure she had pulled away before going back.   
  
His radio was just playing static now and the pinkette fiddled with the knob to try and find a different station.   
  
None were working.   
  
Techno kicked the radio over and heard it break, crossing his arms and sighing when he noticed he’d cut his hand on some janky piece of plastic. He shook his head, finding his first-aid kid and dabbing at the blood to take care of the wound.   
  
He didn’t like pain; like a normal human.   
  
Then again, he couldn’t really feel it.   


Congenital Insensitivity to pain was useful but also horrible. He couldn’t tell when something was damaging him properly; and that had led to mishaps as a child. He could see it vividly in his mind.

A strawberry-brunette kid clinging to dark-green slacks and holding onto the sleeve of a yellow sweater to make sure someone else didn't get lost in a sea of people. 

He stared down at the bandaged cut, trying to think of where he went wrong in life. How he went from a good-student growing up in the 70s to a serial-killer in his mid-20s. He shook his head, flashes of that yellow sweatered kid still present in his mind. 

His twin brother.

His twin brother that wouldn't speak to him anymore.

The pinkette shook his head, picking up the radio and looking over it. He turned it on, hearing music. It was quiet though, hand reaching for the knob and turning it up a bit.

No damage was done that he couldn't easily fix.

Techno spared another quick glance at his hands, taking a proper break from slicing and dicing his victims. The one that wasn't bandaged had a scar on the palm; from when Dream had stabbed him.

He remembered the night, how could he ever forget? He could remember the weeks of preparation leading up, the blood lust circling in his mind right before he'd touched the blonde.

And then it all was gone, the pursuit changing from one of murderous intent to wanting to sit down and talk.

He couldn't really portray that feeling in bulky clothes and a mask though.

He dragged a hand down his face, pinching the bridge of his nose and sprawling out on his other table. It was stained with blood that he couldn't remove and now had him crossing his arms a top it, using them as a pillow.

The entire month of stalking, the nights spent staring into the freckled-male's bedroom window while he slept.

The fact that he hated looking at the date on his arm and hadn't even realized he'd scheduled to kill Dream on the same day. Hadn't had the slightest clue that Dream was supposed to be his.

He'd fallen out of himself, blinking back into focus and returning to work on preserving the meat of his kills.

Techno remembered how he never wanted a soul mate in the first place. He remembered how he'd tried to cut the date off of his arm for it to just appear in a different spot. 

Love would get in the way of his plans to remove all of the people who'd caused his father so much trouble.

The pinkette found himself starting to shake, scalpel falling to the ground and jittering on the floor.

He'd gone this far and his dad had said he was proud. Things had gotten better for his family- his family, that's what all of it was about.

Greedy businessmen, a butcher's shop; and a son who wanted nothing to do with one of the stingy people.

Dream.

Techno shook his head, slapping at the side of his skull to try and knock some sense back into himself. He'd shot down his original goal, his father was doing much better now; Techno himself had inherited the shop and Phil had moved on to do greater things, things he'd always wanted to do before he'd have to retire.

Techno fiddled his hands together, slumping down against one of the tables and sitting on the floor. The medical kit was packed up and his head lolled against one of the supports. His fingers moved up to twirl with his braid.

Flashes of a person that he couldn't remember the face of- it mocked and plagued him. Gentle hands threading through his hair and asking if he wanted to cut it since it was getting pretty long. 

He always told them no, strawberry-brunette fading into a pinker color over time and the longer it got.

He was impulsive, grabbing blood-stained scissors and just calmly cutting across. He could see himself now on the rusty surface of a metal cabinet. Techno crept closer, trimming up parts until he looked somewhat presentable, huffing and discarding of the braid.

He didn't know why he did it, but he felt lighter now.

Like his hair had been the source of every problem.

Right.

Not right, so incredibly not right. He was spiraling, falling back on the ground and staring at a slightly molding ceiling. His hair was short now, he'd get used to it and possibly hate himself for an hour or so before adjusting. He could blend in now though, somewhat.

Techno stood up, running the water in the sink and dunking his head into it, watching pink cloud the water. Kool-Aid that's all it was, all it had been for the past few years.

His hair was more on the brown side but still had the slightly dusty pink appearance; that was natural after all.

He shook his head, water flinging and clinging to nearby surfaces while a hand parted his soaked bangs. What had he done? He couldn't remember the last few minutes, deciding it was better to forget whatever sort of episode he'd had.

The scalpel was back in his hand, getting back to work on skinning Skeppy now. He was still slightly dripping wet, but it didn't really matter much. When did he last take a shower?

He didn't remember that part either, deciding he'd take one when he got home, rolling the skin sheets up, and setting them out to tan. 

He was a mess, hair now short and wet with hands putting Skeppy into another crate.

He was out of crates now and the sun was setting. He honestly couldn't remember what had made him cut his pink-locks, wash-out the temporary Kool-Aid dye, and get hurt.

All he had were the calming sounds of Queen singing over his semi-broken radio.

_ She's a Killer-Queen. Gunpowder, gelatine. Dynamite with a laser beam, guaranteed to blow your mind…  
  
Anytime... _

He wasn't truly paying attention, letting it become white noise as he stood, staring at his last body that he'd deal with another time.

He wasn't thinking of Dream when he got back into his van, he was thinking of his father. He was thinking of the kind-hearted man that he started killing people as revenge for what they'd done to such a sweet-soul.

He leaned against the steering wheel, putting the vehicle in drive and entertaining the idea of visiting- or calling his dad when he got home.

That turned out to be just what he did, pulling into the driveway with the sun close to setting. The doors were unlocked and relocked without a second thought, and he almost forgot someone else was in his house.

He almost forgot- no he did forget how he'd had a sort of manic episode; but he'd never forget his father, dialing the number on the landline.

"Dad…"

\---

Dream's day was nowhere near as filled with action. He'd almost passed out after Techno left, crawling into the bed identical to the one he slept in for years. It felt safe in it, like he was a kid who'd lift the covers up to hide from monsters in the dark.

He'd woken with the heavy front-door almost slamming closed, clenching the covers and sitting up.

_ "Something is wrong with me, dad." _

He could hear Techno, though the man was somewhat muffled. He pressed his ear to the ground, knowing he was under him. There was silence before he heard the pinkette's voice again.

_ "I dunno what it is. I dunno about any of it-"  _ The words were cut-off, most likely someone responding.  _ "Dream? Yeah, he's a nice guy. Don't try and distract me, I think something is wrong I- I tried calling Wilbur last week and he still won't talk to me. He won't even let Tommy talk to me either." _

There was what sounded like a sniffle and Dream sat up, the blonde finding his way back downstairs and peeking around a corner.

He noticed Techno looking completely different, but said nothing so he could hide and listen in on the man's conversation.

_ "I wanna talk to my brothers, papa."  _ A finger curled around the phone cord, the same thing Dream would do when nervous. _ "I wanna see them, I wanna see you. We haven't gotten lunch together in a while. We could go do that tomorrow- I know this nice little cafe." _

Another sniffle, something was clearly wrong with the killer.

_ "I cut my hair, I don't know why nor do I actually remember doing it."  _ His voice was a whisper, a hand running through the incredibly short brown-ish locks.  _ "I don't know, I don't know what happened. It felt like I passed out and then I awoke on the floor of the shop."  _ Techno turned away from the phone, looking around the room.

Dream ducked down just in time to avoid being seen and the pinkette turned back to the phone.

_ "Dad I-"  _ Cut-off once again.  _ "...I got cut and then my mind started to wander and then I was shaking and- that's all I remember. What are we even talking about?"  _ He laughed awkwardly, tightening a hand in his dusty-pink locks.  _ "I think I'm crazy or something." _

Everything was quiet and Dream frowned, hugging his knees to his chest and listening to the other speak to his father. He started to feel pity in his heart. Something clearly wasn't right with the guy who kidnapped him, his soulmate was obviously troubled.

_ "It was all for you dad, every last bit of it."  _ He pulled the landline away from the wall, showing how the phone wasn't even plugged in. No one was on the other side. "Dream."

He could never properly talk to his father, not really. He could just pretend to call him and set himself straight when he had strange manic or depressive episodes. It always worked. 

"Dream, I know you're there." Feet were walking closer to the wall, the blonde sliding out from behind it. "You shouldn't've heard that." All sentiment from the fake conversation was gone, face dead-set with neutrality.

"I-I think you should actually talk to your dad." The blonde stuttered and stepped back from Techno somewhat, not wanting to be close to him while he seemed completely unstable.   
  
The killer was silent, reaching out and taking hold of Dream's hands and eventually turning the motion into a soft hug. "Maybe. One day I will, one day."

The blonde pouted, basically cradling the other and embracing them. This was the exact thing he feared, the exact thing he hated literally a second ago. Now he had his captor in his arms, gently rubbing the pinkette's back. 

His mind was already flip-flopping in favor of Techno; and he didn't even realize. He didn't care in the moment though, maybe being nice to his captor would get them to let him go. "I think you should actually call him and schedule lunch."

The blonde let go of the other, hugging himself and fighting the urge to scratch at his hands; scratch at where Techno had touched.

The pinkette nodded, heading to the door and unlocking it. “Alright, don’t- don’t go anywhere.” A finger was pointing at him, but a face was somewhat sad.

  
\---   


“I need to use your phone.” The pinkette was back at Dream’s workplace, going to use the landline there and see if his dad could possibly meet him. The worker nodded and let him behind the counter where he dialed the number of his favorite person in the world.   
  
He dialed the number and someone on the other side asked him for the badge number of the officer he wanted to talk to and his relation to them.   
  
“I wanna talk to the chief of Brawley, he’s my father.”

He was told to wait a minute and his eyes glanced over at the blonde. “Didn’t you guys have a co-worker? Another blondie, named Dream?”    
  
Punz nodded. “Guy was crazy, needed help. Got attacked a long time ago. If you ask me, I think he ran away to a different state to get away; possibly to his mom’s.”    
  
Techno turned away, hearing the voice in his ear speak to him. It told him that the chief wasn’t in the station as of now, investigating a kidnapping. He hung up the phone, a sour taste in his mouth and eyes searching over the cafe. There were no customers.   
  
“We’re closing.” Punz spoke, washing down a table with a rag.   
  
The pinkette nodded, running a hand over his face and getting ideas. He slipped to the backroom first, taking a hold of a broom and finding the way to the second barista, hitting them into a counter and knocking them out with just a thud.   
  
The blonde was next, grabbing and smashing him into a table. He watched Punz pass out and grabbed him by the collar of his work shirt. He dragged the unconscious bodies to the back, driving the van around and stuffing them inside.   
  
He had people to skin alive, but not enough hours in the day to do so.   
  
He didn’t need time though, he was running on anger; thrown sleep and caution to the wind as he drove across state and city lines to the butcher’s shop. Night had already fallen and his victims were strung up on hooks, gagged and waking up to try and scream and shift which just made things worse.   
  
Techno began the slow process of bleeding them out while they were crying and scared out of their minds. Maybe they’d die, maybe they’d hang onto life long enough for Techno to get to skin them without it being incredibly messy.   
  
He reached over, putting his apron on and grabbing his tools; the radio knob turned and a smile on his face with the music.   
  
_ I don't care if Monday's blue, Tuesday's grey and Wednesday too… _

_ Thursday, I don't care about you- It's Friday, I'm in love... _


	7. Author's Commentary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is a little late today XP AND PROBABLY DISSAPOINTING. I KNOW Y'ALL WANTED AN UPDATE I'M SORRY *SOBS*
> 
> The chapter wasn't finished so I had to speedrun like half of it this morning and even then I couldn't get it finished in time. I'll upload it either next Wednesday or EARLIER if I finish it. But for now- an Author's commentary on my favorite parts :)

_**Chapter One**_  
  
**"Of course I'm safe." The voice was quieter and Dream realized it was because George had turned away from the phone to look at something. "You don't need to worry, Dream." The distraction was gone, George's voice loud and clear.  
  
**This line is my favorite piece of foreshadowing early in the book. George is looking away because there is someone sitting at the bar-like area of the restaurant. Also- if you want to know what I see this place as just think of the inside of a Waffle House. It has a sort of bar area and is a breakfast/burger place, really good. Techno is sitting at that little bar area and even George feels thrown off by him; he wasn't there a minute ago.  
  
**He’d sucked up his tears this time, hugging Sapnap tighter. He’d not be letting the raven see that. Never- it was too bloody and heartbreaking. “Dream-” The other wrapped their arms around Dream in turn, the blonde making sure he never got a look at the fridge where the sheriff, deputy, and some stray officers were pulling a wrapped head on a platter out of the unit.  
  
**I wanted to make a point out of Dream being close friends with these two in the book so that even if I never went in detail about the two of them; people would still feel bad for Dream losing them. This line right here shows his sort of relationship to Sapnap as an older brother, being protective of things because he couldn't protect himself during the prologue, just run.  
  
**He hopped into the passenger seat, holding his bat across his lap. “I need to get across town.”**

**The woman smiled. “Well you’re in luck, because that’s where I’m heading.”**

**He sighed, head lolling against the window and staring out in the night that had fallen on the town. He swore he saw a figure standing among the tree line, becoming a normal thing for him.  
  
**Funfact, this woman that drives Dream across town is actually like an OC insert a friend of mine who beta-reads for this fic and has drawn a multitude of art for it (27 pieces at the time of writing this- like damn.) I call her Blue and she's one of my best friends and encouraged me to upload this as a proper fic instead of it just sitting in my Google Docs as a personal thing.  
  
  
  
  
_**Chapter Two**_  
  
**Yeah. He already knew that, and he hated it. He wouldn’t submit to the killer, so he knew he’d be taken or stalked. He was startled by a scream, grabbing his bat and jumping up. The brunette was immediately by his side, looking around scared. Dream twirled his bat in his hands, winding up.**  
  
This first scream was to throw people off and show how paranoid Dream has become. He couldn't tell excitement from horror. It was also to bait people reading all like "Yeah, things are fine right now." But no- we go right into them all being attacked. This fake scare was to lure people into a false sense of safety and I did a good job with it- 2 of the people who get early access to my drafts commented on this XD  
  
**“Not everyone. There’s your coworkers, neighbors… That nice lady at the supermarket that grows her own vegetables and gives you a head of lettuce every Sunday.” The mask had been removed, Dream able to see those ruby eyes clearly through the bars. This guy knew a shit ton about him.**  
  
So, I saw a comment on this. I never outright say Techno is obsessed with Dream- or that he is a literal stalker. I never have to! It's lines like this where Techno wouldn't know small things like the lady at the super market unless he was stalking Dream. People know what Techno 'is', I don't have to spell it out for them :)  
  
**There was blood on his hands from lazily catching himself. He’d accidentally stuck his hand in the open chest cavity, smiling sadly and laughing again. It was bullshit, and he was so out of it. He most definitely had a concussion, the world swirling around him and turning sideways as he hit the plastic tray everyone was set on.  
  
**So, this is basically the first message to show Dream's downward spiral into insanity. This is his turning point. Concussed and laughing with his hand stuck inside the cut open chest of his friend. All his actions after this were completely impulsive  
  
  
  
_**Chapter Three**_  
  
**He laughed in the cold space, looking around. Some of the things inside the freezer weren’t human, some actual animal meat and an ice pick. His hands shot towards the pick, grabbing it and going to break the glass. He stabbed at it, but it wouldn’t budge, wouldn’t even crack. He could still save it for later though, shoving it into his boot perfectly angled so it wouldn’t stab him.**  
  
Dream gets his little weapon that he threatens himself with! This was the perfect moment to include Dream obtaining resources; as well as more laughter in his dire situation. Most people react to things differently- I've laughed when told people I love are dead which people might say is messed up but... We all grieve differently handle situations weirdly.  
  
**_“Love me, love me… Say that you love me...”  
  
_**One of my beta-readers left a comment on this moment and I think I'll share it with you all :) _"This guy is smitten and the only person who it hurts is dream. good job."_ Sure it physically hurts other people; leaving them dead. But if you notice, Techno does clean up. He kills everyone close so that other's can't grieve :) Sapnap had that day to himself- but then he was gone too.  
  
**It really was a nice day for a white wedding.**  
  
I dunno if anyone noticed this, but it's the song playing on the radio too- it's in the playlist as well! Billy Idol - White Wedding Pt. 1  
  
**And his landline had not been removed.**  
  
This is a blooper that got past my beta-readers. It's supposed to say that the landline WAS removed, but I thought it was funny since literally no one noticed, so I left it in :)  
  
**He’d leaned in, interlacing his fingers with the blonde’s and noticing another small heart appear. Pink on the other and green on himself. “Do you like it?” He’d set his head on the other’s shoulder, Techno’s words a whisper in Dream’s ears. “I did it just for you.”**  
  
Another instance of me including a beta-reader's comment lmao _"This guys is a grade-A asshole, and i hope that Dream kicks his ass. ;--; ... But like.. Just one swift kick to the balls and i would be happy- Did you know that when applied with enough pressure men's testicles could actually explode? So if dream were to kick him hard enough- he would destroy his baby maker. owo"  
  
  
  
__**Chapter Four  
  
**_**Red eyes were bright and in a lovesick haze, emerald staring within and becoming mesmerized. Those rubies that once scared the hell out of him and haunted his nightmares were right here and in his life. He didn’t like it.**  
  
Lovesick haze- the wording here is important and a few people picked up on it *wink*. It was foreshadowing of the fact that Techno is really just hopped up on happy-go-lucky Soul mate juices (i dunno what else to call it to be honest and this is just funny to me)  
  
**It was a sick metaphor, his new home like his old one. A sign that he was always meant to be here, that he already was here when the killer first went after him.**  
  
SO- SOMEONE ACTUALLY GOT THIS. DREAM HAD A NIGHTMARE WHERE HE WAS 'IN HIS HOUSE' WITH A SPRAINED ANKLE. THAT WAS FORESHADOWING TO BEING HERE HUAHUAHUA  
  
**“You’re not fucking getting away. You left once and you will not be leaving again.” The pinkette turned away, walking off and to the massive door. Three separate keys, three separate locks.**  
  
So, fun fucking fact right here. The three keys/three locks is a metaphor and a physical item. 1 - A key to Dream's heart, 2 - A key to the mental cage of fear the blonde's trapped inside of, 3 - A key to a healthy relationship. Three things out of reach of Dream- three keys to three things he either can't get rid of or obtain, and three physical keys he will never have.  
  


**It wasn't a matter of him being stuck with Techno.**

**Techno was stuck with _him_ now.**  
  
This is some amazing foreshadowing that I've been waiting on someone to pick up on.  
  
**Don’t you want me baby?**

 **Don’t you want me? Oh.**  
  
MY FAVORITE COMMENTOR PICKED UP ON THIS. IM USING THE MUSIC IN THE PLAYLIST TO REFLECT TECHNO MOST OF THE TIME! Lemme just... Copy-Paste was SkyeTehTsubaki said for y'all :) _"I love how ur using songs as meanings in this, kinda showing us more of what techno believes, or wants. He wants thay pure love. That ending tho. 'Don’t you want me? Oh.' I'm seeing a realization there. Techno definitely is figuring things out even in his delusional way. I wonder what this entails tho. "You better change it back or we will both be sorry" has such a foreboding feeling to it. I really can't see how this will end well, maybe that's what intrigues me most about this. The mystery with Techno and his thoughts. He's not fully insane but he's not fully aware."_  
  
  
  
_**Chapter Five**_  
  
**“It’s my own design, it’s my own remorse.” He was now fully into it, properly swaying while cut off clothing. “Help me to decide, help me make the most of freedom- and of pleasure, nothing ever lasts forever; everybody wants to rule the world!” He was smiling while he cut, in his own little world while chopping body parts off and separating everything.**  
  
Techno has fucking taste in music- also, it took me longer to find music than to actually write this chapter which was kinda sad but- OH WELL. All the songs are from the 1950s-1990s since this fic takes place in I wanna say I was thinking either 1998 or 1997 :)  
  
**Congenital Insensitivity to pain was useful but also horrible. He couldn’t tell when something was damaging him properly; and that had led to mishaps as a child. He could see it vividly in his mind.**  
  
Along with Congenital Insensitivity, I don't know if anyone say an update to the tags :3 haha, Bipolar and Cyclothymic disorder were new tags added and GUESS WHAT IM THE FIRST WORK UNDER THE TAG CYCLOTHYMIC DISORDER- I FEEL ACCOMPLISHED- so yeah, Techno has Bipolar Disorder and that's why he's got his big mood swings and things (I had my Uncle who has Bipolar Disorder help me write Techno's breakdown by the way)  
  
**Greedy business men, a butcher's shop; and a son who wanted nothing to do with one of the stingy people.**

**Dream.**  
  
I wanted to actually explain this. SO. Dream's dad was one of those people who were trying to take away the butcher's shop. The man had died in a car crash before Techno could get to him though, so he put Dream on his hit-list instead since he had an extremely close resemblance to the man. That's the whole reason an 'innocent college student' was on the hit list of a butcher who killed businessmen. Techno saw it as getting the closest target to feel complete in his revenge. As you can see- his plans changed though because that man is his love :D  
  
**I don't care if Monday's blue, Tuesday's grey and Wednesday too…**

**Thursday, I don't care about you- It's Friday, I'm in love...** _  
  
_ This actually plays into what I just said! Wooh! So basically, the prologue takes place on a Friday. When it hit midnight it was officially Friday. Techno had these plans of revenge the whole week and then BOOM- Midnight- now it's Friday and he's seen Dream and DAMN this guy is so fine AND his soul mate :)

Also I just wanted to say, Chapter 5 was all about seeing Techno- humanizing the villain so y'all would sympathize. Get rekt scrubs.  
  
  
_**Now I want to open up the comments for a sort of Q &A or an in-depth analysis on lines that stuck out to YOU guys. I'll get to all the comments while I'm working on the proper chapter and I'll explain anything you guys want as long as it's not too spoilery. :)  
  
Ask me questions about myself- my fic- anything really. Some of y'all have already been doing this but here's the official broadcast of this :D**_


	8. Chapter Six - The Douche Bag With A Guitar and The Cool Kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Techno goes to see his dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SORRY THIS TOOK 2 WEEKS.  
> AS SORRY I PUT 4K WORDS AND LIKE 6 NEW SONGS ON THE PLAYLIST.
> 
> Also, so things don't get confusing later in this chapter, at the end, look at this key!
> 
> ITALIC - You Oughta Know / Techno  
> UNDERLINED - Head Over Feet / Dream  
> BOLD - Ironic / Both

Techno blinked his eyes open alarmed, having passed out on the floor and rudely awoken to a blaring guitar.  
  
The chords had him startled and sitting up, grasping at the closest thing; the handle of his scalpel.  
  
_Darling, you got to let me know. Should I stay or should I go?  
  
_ _If you say that you are mine- I'll be here 'till the end of time...  
  
_ He reached over and turned off the radio, not even thinking about how he’d left it on. He didn’t plan to, but he didn’t plan to pass out either. The first thing he saw was his two newest victims had finally bled to death from their injuries.  
  
He nodded, turning around and heading out to the main shop where he could put his open sign up.  
  
His first customer was unexpected.  
  
"...Techno." An accent that he lacked was sounding within the walls of his shop. "Techno, I need to talk to you."  
  
Wilbur.  
  
"...Shut up." The pinkette looked away, hand tangling in dusty-pink hair. "Shut up."   
  
He snapped back to reality, seeing a man in a yellow sweater with a British accent.  
  
It wasn't Wilbur, this man was blonde. This man hadn't even spoken yet. "One second." The butcher smiled, turning around and pretending to busy himself.  
  
He didn't know what that little conversation with Wilbur was. Did he accidentally speak aloud? Was it all in his head?  
  
He glanced back over, helping the man with what he had come in to get.   
  
His sightings of Wilbur never stopped.  
  
Reality was bleeding together, Techno even seeing his dad come in. He didn't understand why it happened, and it was all so sudden.  
  
Maybe Dream was right.  
  
Techno reached for the landline in his shop when people were a lesser occurrence, dialing the number from yesterday, hoping that his dad was available.  
  
The blonde man was and Techno found himself smiling while the operator got a hold of the chief of police. Things were going good so far, maybe?  
  
_"Hello?"  
  
_ That accent, his smile grew wider. "Hi dad-" Techno waved at a lady who came in, looking around at all the meats on display.   
  
_"Oh! Techno! It's been so long my boy!"  
  
_ The pinkette set his head against the wall, eyes closing while he listened to the soothing tones of his father coming through the phone. He felt like a child being lulled to sleep, mind racing back in time to when he was plagued with nightmares and his dad would just hold him and hum.  
  
His father was his everything, all of it was for him; for this shop.  
  
He was dazed a while ago, confused and seeing things, but now he was overjoyed to talk to the man. "I actually called you to talk about that."  
  
He held the phone between his shoulder and ear while he rang up the lady who had chosen what she wanted.  
  
_"Oh?"  
  
_He waved to the woman and uttered niceties to focus on his father. He set the phone down for a second and turned the open sign; closing the shop for the afternoon.

"I wanted us to catch up over lunch today maybe." He stood back by the landline, happy as could be. His mood was only dampened by the thought of how driving back to Brawley would take almost 4 hours. “Or dinner.”  
  
_“That would be lovely. I can’t make it to lunch, so dinner it is.”_  
  
“Just the two of us.” He heard no confirmation on the other side. “Dad- the two of us. Cardoza’s Little Bakery Shop.”  
  
There was a sound, like someone snapping out of their thoughts. _“Yes. Sorry. I was focused on this paperwork for a case I’m working on.”_ _  
_ _  
_ Techno couldn’t help but feel like that was a lie, no matter how true it seemed. “I’ll see you then, dad.”  
  
_“Of course, son.”_ _  
_ _  
_ The blonde hung up and Techno set the phone back where it belonged.  
  
He was immediately moving to the back, seeing that his radio was still on, even though he thought he turned it off. He must've just turned it down.  
  
_I had visions, I was in them, I was looking into the mirror._ _  
_ _  
_ Almost on time, he caught his reflection in the strange filing-cabinet he had in his slaughterhouse. _  
_ _  
_ _To see a little bit clearer, the rottenness and evil in me.  
  
_ He got closer to the metal surface, running his fingers over it. He wasn’t evil, the business people were evil, and the people keeping Dream from him were evil. He killed them because they tried to keep the perfect man to themselves.  
  
It was like he was locked in a tower- kind of like a princess in a storybook. That’s the thing though, he wasn’t a princess. He was like a prince, divine and handsome and dashing in every single way- a god if you would.  
  
His hand clenched into a fist against the metal surface.  
  
He could appreciate this song though, no matter how awkward it made him feel; how it got him thinking of himself.  
  
He pulled the remains of Bad Noveschosch out of their crate and set them on display in his shop, using the newly freed up crate for one of his newer victims from the other night.  
  
Punz was packed away.  
  
_I'd like to turn off time… And kill my mind,_

 _You kill my mind, mind...  
_  
A fist was thrown against a window, a loud thud and a small ‘ow’ sounding in the room. Dream huffed, doing it again; but to no avail, it didn’t budge.  
  
The cat had left the mouse alone, it was sure to run around and play.  
  
Scrambling for any heavy item, the blonde flipped the couch over, checked behind the fridge, everywhere he could think of. He found nothing except a radio in the kitchen, walking over and turning it on.  
  
At first, it was too loud, Dream wincing and reaching out to swiftly calm the speakers’ output.  
  
He could hear it clearly, it wasn’t just a talk show like what he would usually listen to; or what he honestly expected a monster like Techno too. People droning on, the news of recent victims in the area.  
  
_Paranoia, paranoia,_ _  
  
_ _Everybody's coming to get me..._  
  
He looked around the room, it felt as if Harvey Danger was inside the walls; the beat surrounding him and filling the space. Like a surge of confidence was building. The first thing in a while he’d heard that was unrelated to Techno.  
  
_Just say you never met me,_ _  
  
_ _I'm running underground with the moles, digging holes..._  
  
Techno had got into the swing of the rhythm, having nothing better to do while he waited. It’d take four hours to drive home and then he’d have dinner with his father. He could kill time and listen to the song.  
  
His fingers itched to change the channel but he didn’t do so, spinning around and nearly tripping over a scalpel he left on the ground. The knife was immediately picked up and set with his other tools.  
  
_Hear the voices in my head,_ _  
  
_ _I swear to God it sounds like they're snoring..._  
  
Dream found himself smiling, laughter falling out of his mouth with the melody.  
  
He turned on his heels, nodding while looking at the space. This was his chance; he could get out and get help. No more lying to the police about Techno’s name just because he wanted to ‘talk’.  
  
_Well if you’re bored then you’re boring,_ _  
_ _  
_ _The agony and the irony, they’re killing me..._  
  
Techno smiled, clasping his hands together and striking a pose. He twirled a rusty scalpel between gloved fingers and pumped a fist into the air. This might be one of his new favorite songs, throwing himself back and forth, tripping over his counter and falling onto his back.  
  
He was laughing on his own from being such a klutz.  
  
_I’m not sick,_ _  
_ _  
_ _But I’m not well...  
  
_ There was nothing until he came upon one of the unused closets.  
  
Pictures of Dream lined the walls. Small photographs from a polaroid camera, news clippings that had his face on them. This place was a creepy shrine towards his existence.  
  
He noticed something on the ground though, the baseball bat.  
  
He grabbed it and immediately shut the door when he was out of the room.  
  
He could use this to his advantage- and he did, immediately smashing open a window in time with a beating drum.  
  
It was a tight fit, but he managed to crawl out and fall onto the grass of a pristine lawn. He was out, hands burying into the dewy grass and looking over the neighborhood.  
  
_And I’m so hot,_ _  
_ _  
_ _‘Cause I’m in hell…  
  
_ Techno got up from the floor, putting the rusty scalpel back in the trashcan he’d managed to grab it from. He probably needed to clean up but he glanced at the time displayed on his radio. He needed to get going soon.  
  
_I’m not sick,_ _  
_ _  
_ _But I’m not well..._  
  
It was a gated community, but he could easily hop the fence.  
  
He was going to escape, he was going to get out.  
  
A small voice in the back of his head told him no though.  
  
He agreed, just looking around. He didn’t need to get out, he just needed to look around for possible escape routes if his situation ever escalated further and got creepier.  
  
The gate could be hopped over and he could probably break the window with a broom handle. He’d seen Techno with one before, he could find it somewhere in the house.  
  
He squeezed his way back in through the window, frowning when he noticed a large patch of blood staining the arm of his sweater. He’d cut himself on the jagged broken window and it just now started to sting.  
  
Dream took care of the injury by himself, heading to the bathroom and using the medical kit there to patch up the wound. He only just now started to think about how Techno would react to the broken window.  
  
He found himself now scared, shaking while putting surgical tape over a gauze pad.  
  
This wasn’t an escape attempt, it was the opportunity to see new routes.  
  
_And it’s a sin,_ _  
_ _  
_ _To live this well…_  
  
Techno was in his van, music off and head bobbing along to the song he’d heard earlier. He didn’t sing, but he could hear the lyrics in his head. They were fading with the song ending though.  
  
The first thing he noticed when he pulled up to his house was a baseball bat on his lawn. The same one he'd put in the closet, the same one Dream had wielded against him.  
  
Techno's mind was immediately racing and his boots were crushing grass as he walked over the hours of care to now see shards of broken glass. He stared through the broken window that the glass belonged to, reaching out to touch a stray strand of green yarn.  
  
Dream’s sweater had scraped against the wall and gotten somewhat cut.  
  
Techno looked around the inside, seeing small droplets of red on his marble countertop.  
  
He didn’t bother with the front door, entering through the window Dream had broken.  
  
He heard small little noises of pain- grunts, like the blonde was physically pulling something around. He stayed behind the wall and out of sight of the lit bathroom.  
  
He didn’t know if he’d have to cancel dinner now, searching through the house. He found the bathroom door closed, opening it. Dream was standing, putting the medkit away.  
  
He saw the alarm in emerald eyes, slowly rubbing his calloused palms together. “...You broke my window.”  
  
“I-” Dream was stuttering, glancing away. “I wanted to touch the grass. It’d been awhile and I like nature.”  
  
They turned away from him, a lie. Techno frowned, holding his arms out and walking towards Dream to hug the blonde. “Please don’t leave- please don't break my windows and get hurt.”  
  
He could feel them tense up, and the small jerk to the side that they calmed down themself. Playing into his hands, staying in his arms. There was just a muted sigh and a hand patting the top of his head.  
  
It was comforting, it was affectionate.  
  
They’d basically traded places. Techno was crumbling and Dream was holding his head high. “I’m going to dinner with my father tonight.” The pinkette swallowed roughly. “Please don’t leave while I’m gone.”  
  
The blonde was still silent, Techno able to feel them move to look around the bathroom. “I won’t.”  
  
He knew it was a lie, their hesitation and slightly irregular breathing giving that away.  
  
Techno decided he’d trust him, feeling arms wrap around him in turn. They stood in the bathroom together, enveloping one another.  
  
He could feel Dream shaking and they stayed like that until the phone downstairs rang. Techno let it go off until it stopped, only then taking his arms back from around Dream. It was nice to know that his soulmate would at least touch him, it made him feel warm and fuzzy, happy.  
  
He smiled, waving to Dream just in time for the phone downstairs to ring again.  
  
This time he picked it up.  
  
It was the pinkette’s father, telling the man that he was at the cafe waiting.  
  
There was a last glance shared between emerald and ruby eyes.  
  
A look of adoration meeting solemn defiance.  
  
“I’ll be right there.” He hung up, placing a cutting board in front of the window for the time being, the wod large enough to cover the hole. “I’ll clean up the glass later.”  
  
The pinkette was washing his hands, not realizing there was still dried blood on them until now.  
  
He was on the road.  
  
_Here we stand,  
  
_ _Worlds apart, hearts broken in two…_  
  
He wasn’t listening, peering out the window as the van rolled on. The music was white noise at this point. At a stop-light he leaned his head against the window, seeing the streetlamps reflected on the glass. Almost just as pretty as the stars. Almost just as pretty as Dream.  
  
_Someday, love will find you,  
  
_ _Break those chains that bind you...  
  
_ It cut out after that, Techno silencing the car radio since he’d pulled into a parking space.  
  
He saw his dad sitting at one of the outside chairs and smiled, opening a gate that divided them. He was then sitting across from him, looking at the other two chairs at the table. There were other spots with only two chairs, and there were only two of them.  
  
Why didn’t his dad grab one of those spots with four chairs, they didn’t need four chairs.  
  
His question was answered when he heard his name called behind him.  
  
“Techno.”  
  
His twin holding their little brother’s hand. Even if he didn’t have his glasses on, a proper mistake on his part, he could recognize the tall figure.  
  
Techno was then immediately standing up. “We’ll have to reschedule, dad.” He pushed his chair in, walking off. He could hear someone playing the guitar out on the side of the street, people dropping coins into the open instrument case.  
  
They got a tip of a hat for their donations and an off-handed joke in Spanish.  
  
“Wait- no, Techno please.” Phil stood up himself, grabbing the pinkette’s wrist before he could go.  
  
“I don’t- want to talk to Wilbur.” Even if he said it before in his own home, he truly didn't want to talk unless it was just him and Wilbur, no one else. He wanted to talk to his family members one on one; not at the same time.  
  
The blonde kid let go of his older brother’s hand, walking up to his other brother with a smile. “C’mon, I haven’t seen you in like two or three years, big guy-” Their arms were open for a hug and the pinkette just stared at them.  
  
He huffed, giving in and hugging his little brother. He didn’t miss the protective glare from Wilbur.  
  
There was a reason he cut contact. There was a reason he no longer wanted to talk to the sweater-wearing _dick face_ .  
  
He was the one who tried to ‘protect’ Tommy, he was the one that took their little brother away. They were the person in the wrong here.  
  
The pinkette let go of the kid, seeing another in his peripheral, a purple hoodie wearing teen, walking and sitting next to the guitarist. They started to joke around.  
  
“I just wanted it to be me and dad.” He wasn’t talking to his father in the presence of his brother, wishing his dad farewell.  
  
“Oh- first, please before you go.”  
  
The eldest placed a flip-phone on the table, sliding it over to his technically-eldest son.  
  
The pinkette took it, flipping open the lid and sifting through. He had three contacts.  
  
**Phil** **  
** **  
** **Wilbur** **  
** **  
** **Tommy**  
  
He just nodded, closing it and slipping the device into his pocket. “I’ll uhm- text you a new time and stuff.” He turned on his heels, opening the gate and walking out again, sitting back in the van.  
  
The second he started it up, the chorus of a new song filled the space.  
  
_And I'm here, to remind you,_ _  
  
_ _Of the mess you left when you went away…_  
  
The pinkette threw his head into his hands, leaning against the wheel. He was fine just a week ago, now things were getting to him. He looked over to the area of the cafe where his family was no longer at. He saw them head inside.  
  
Tommy’s fluffy hair was just barely visible through a window. They wouldn’t see him do it. He just fucking slammed his foot onto the gas pedal and he had rammed into the child and guitarist, driving off. He looked in his rearview mirror, the two laying in the street and somewhat mangled behind him.  
  
He just continued on his way, hand holding his face with his elbow on the dashboard. He started laughing, hand running through his hair while he turned a corner. He was heading back home.  
  
_You seem very well, things look peaceful,  
_ _  
_ _I'm not quite as well, I thought you should know…_  
  
He forgot to lock the door on his way out, and Dream had already made his way through the door. There was no hassle, the blonde’s shoes on the grass like earlier.  
  
He smiled, laughing and crying. His smile fell and he frowned, sitting down on the porch step.  
  
Techno had turned on the radio for Dream before he left and it was on a different channel than before. The artist was the same one Techno was listening to in the van; but Dream had no idea. It was a different song entirely.  
  
He was having his own breakdown. He could just barely hear it, the words soft and slightly in the background.  
  
_You've already won me over in spite of me,_ _  
  
_ _And don't be alarmed if I fall head over feet..._  
  
Techno just couldn’t fight his own stupid smile while he sobbed inside of the van. He wanted some quality time with his father, not his entire family. Not Wilbur at least. He’d talk to Tommy, not Wilbur. That man could ruin him at any point in time.  
  
Wilbur knew of almost everything he’d done. The one thing he didn’t know was Dream’s situation, but being exposed for murdering people was enough to land him a possible spot on death row.  
  
_Did you forget about me, Mr. Duplicity?  
  
_ _I hate to bug you in the middle of dinner  
  
_ Dream couldn't fucking help his tears, hugging his knees to his chest and nearly screaming his lungs out.   
  
He was surprised by a droplet landing on his nose.  
  
_And don't be surprised if I love you for all that you are,  
  
_ _I couldn't help it- It's all your fault...  
  
_ The songs on both radios ended and the two different stations started playing the exact same thing.  
  
Alanis Morisette was sounding for both men, both crying as well.  
  
**_An old man turned 98,_ ** **_  
  
_ ** **_He won the lottery and died the next day…_ **  
  
Techno was drying his tears, but the laughter continued. He couldn’t fucking stop, he was hysterical. He was crumbling and he couldn’t stop, spiraling. Another stop light and he heard sirens, watching an ambulance and a police car race by him.  
  
They were most likely going to tend to the people left to die in the street.  
  
**_It's a black fly in your Chardonnay,  
_ ** **_  
It's a death row pardon two minutes too late,_ ** **_  
_ ** **_  
_ ** **_And isn't it ironic, don't you think?_ ** _  
_  
It started raining, Dream looking up at the sky and feeling the droplets sprinkle onto his face before it was pouring. The song had ended and he hadn’t realized it was even playing until he’d gotten outside.  
  
He was soaking, and both radios were now playing the same song.  
  
Dream couldn’t bring himself to stand or even scoot under the porch roof. He let himself get soaked, fluffy blonde hair falling over his eyes and rain properly running down his face. The soft green sweater was turning a darker green from the water.  
  
He was frozen. In a literal sense because of the cold rain and a physical sense because he couldn’t move. He couldn’t run away and he couldn’t go back in the house.  
  
**_It's like rain on your wedding day,_ ** **_  
  
_ ** **_It's a free ride when you've already paid…_ **  
  
Techno looked to his side, eyes meeting with Dream’s since the van had finally pulled up. He was overjoyed to find his blonde had stuck around, but he couldn’t stop his tears, basically using the steering wheel as a pillow while he tried to get rid of them.  
  
They’d talk about this later, for now, Techno opened the van door; stepping out. The only sign that he was crying was slightly irritated eyes. Techno was now getting drenched just like Dream had, slowly walking up to the porch and opening his arms.  
  
Dream could finally move, forcing himself to stand up and hug the pinkette back. He didn’t understand it, he didn’t like it, and he didn’t want it.  
  
But it felt so nice and safe- so nice and comforting and warm. It was like a soft blanket was covering him, a soft and wet blanket.  
  
They held each other while the droplets continued to rain from the sky, both of their minds filled with the song inside the house.  
  
**_It's the good advice that you just didn't take,_ ** **_  
  
_ ** **_And who would've thought, it figures…_ **  
  
Dream had his face buried in Techno’s shoulder, continuing to sob. He didn’t even realize he was being picked up, but when he was; his legs were wrapping around the pinkette’s waist. He was carried back into the house and out of the rain, one of the arms holding him removing itself to lock the door.  
  
He heard two clicks this time instead of three.  
  
One was left unlocked and the blonde was hiccuping, quieting his noises as best as he could. The only click after the first two was the knob of the radio being turned off. “You’re soaking.”  
  
He didn’t answer, just clinging tighter. He was being carried to the bathroom,soaking and set down on a towel laying on the toilet seat.  
  
“I’ll bring you replacement clothes.” Wet hair was ruffled up and the blonde curled into himself. “But you should dry off.”  
  
The pinkette was caring for Dream instead of himself and it just made the blonde sob harder.  
  
This guy was the most selfish but also most selfless person at the same time.  
  
It broke him.  
  
It upset him to no end. If the situation was any different, he’d be all over this. His previous relationship had gone to shit and this one seemed to start out like shit.  
  
Was this even a relationship though?  
  
Fuck it, to him it was.  
  
It was rocky at first, but now it was reaching a smoother sort of plateau. This could work out in the end. He could have a happily ever after, it usually came after hardships anyway.  
  
He just spread his arms out, silently asking for a hug. He was initiating it himself, wanting to be held. His demand was almost immediately met, tears coming back full force.  
  
He didn’t like it, right.  
  
He loved it.  
  
He loved feeling safe after the trials and tribulations this man had put him through. His mind was almost trying to throw those away. It tried to play them down, telling him it wasn’t so bad.  
  
He was starting to believe it, but he could still tell that the belief was forced. He wasn’t fully gone, and he wasn’t stupid.  
  
He was just in need of comfort and it didn’t matter who gave it to him.  
  
_And isn't it ironic, don't you think?_  
  
_A little too ironic..._  
  
He could hear the words, even if the radio wasn't on. He nodded, feeling light-headed.  
  
His vision faded to black with his tears drying up.


	9. HeartLies Role!Swap AU Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since I took a full week off from posting, I made this small little non-canon AU!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens if you're trapped in your own house with a serial killer who lets his victims run around in a death-maze just like mice?
> 
> This knock-off Kevin McCallister is cold and calculating. Instead of keeping the bad guys out like in the movie though, he's trying to keep you inside.

The pinkette was up late, tidying up his house and catching a glimpse at the date written on his forearm. He just smiled and pushed his sleeve up further to get a better look, setting down the rag he was using to wash one of the windows.  
  
He tended to clean when he was nervous or couldn't sleep. He stared over at his bed, perfectly made for when he was eventually going to tire himself out. Eyes drifted to the clock on his wall.  
  
It was nearly midnight. It was nearly time for the day he'd meet his soulmate.  
  
He squirted the glass cleaner onto the window but stopped when he put the rag towards it.  
  
The sound he heard was not the spurt of the bottle, well it was; but he heard something else too.   
  
His family would not be visiting him in the middle of the night, and they always called him before so that he could clean up and get ready for them.  
  
He shook his head, finishing washing the window and tightening his hair back into the small bun he'd made to keep it out of his face while he cleaned.  
  
He set the supplies down and skirted around his bed.  
  
It was a small plink, a rock against the window he had previously cleaned.  
  
He almost immediately locked it, shocked and stepping back slowly. He covered his mouth with a hand.  
  
A larger rock broke through, glass shattering  
  
He brushed off the shards with his gloved hands and picked up the rock. A note was taped to it, a crude smile face half-heartedly scribbled onto the paper.  
  
He looked out the broken window, seeing a masked figure step back into the trees surrounding his neighborhood- the ones right on the side of his house.  
  
The Nightmare had chosen a victim and he knew that his death was inevitable now. No one escaped. The man was cold and practical. All over the news for laying a series of triggered traps throughout his victims' house, and if they didn't die inside, he'd smash their skull in with a baseball bat when they tried to escape.  
  
Techno slowly walked over to the rotary phone on his bedside table. He was trying to be smart about it.  
  
"The Nightmare has quite possibly trapped my house. He's outside and I just got a rock thrown through my window with a smiley face on it."  
  
At this point, it was just waiting out for whatever would make him bite the dust.  
  
The operator had taken information from him, where he lived; telling him to just hold tight and not open any doors until the police could get there.  
  
He hung up, looking back out the window and seeing the mask just barely in the shadows of greenery.  
  
Maybe the killer would get bored of his newest prey just waiting it out and come after him himself.  
  
He had his hand on the doorknob without thinking, twisting it and immediately ducking out of the way so a bucket full of bricks that swung into his room didn't knock him upside the head. "Right- no opening doors."  
  
A mental reminder.  
  
The ruby-eyed male brushed himself off after standing up and looked back out the window to find the masked killer no longer in the tree line. He did hear footsteps in his house though.  
  
Okay, if a trap didn't kill them then they sure would. There was no more waiting it out.  
  
He was reminded of something though, a small voice in the back of his head making him look down at his arm. The ink was still lime green. It would've faded if he was to die now.  
  
He was feeling more confident than before but hearing the footsteps get louder he had to silence a squeak. Right, even if he wouldn't die he'd surely get injured.  
  
He saw gloved fingers reach around his door frame and wasted no time, sliding on under the arm and running down the stairs. He had to avoid a tripwire in the hallway, but thankfully he was wearing his glasses and saw it shimmer in the moonlight coming through a nearby window.  
  
He heard a noise of excitement and curiosity; like the masked figure enjoyed the idea of a chase through a trapped house.  
  
The bottom of the stairs was oily and Techno just sat on the railing and slid to drop over it he'd avoid it.  
  
He looked up at the Nightmare who stood at the top of the stairs, looking down at him.  
  
He could almost see emerald eyes behind small holes in the mask.  
  
His trip into the kitchen revealed that he had no knives in his knife set, and no knives in his cutlery drawer, not even the small dull ones used to cut butter and butter only.  
  
But if he could get to the drawer there'd be more things, industrial scissors that he could cut tripwires with, stab the killer.  
  
He was standing still while he thought, startled by the baseball bat smashing out a cabinet full of plates right next to his head.  
  
He immediately pushed himself off the counter to avoid his hands getting crushed in a second swing, throwing a leg up and kicking the other back to hope of a second tripwire and head for the garage.   
  
This guy was smart, removing the possible weapons from the kitchen, but not smart enough. Techno had been able to slip a fork into his sleeve, just stabbing it into a hand trying to grab him.  
  
It managed to stun the killer enough for him to have time to open the heavy door. It was only then that he realized if he went inside he'd be cornering himself.  
  
That was fine with him, flicking the lights on and sliding over a saw table, immediately switching it on. He was breathing heavily, keeping it between him and the emerald-eyed murderer.  
  
It was loud in the space, saw whirring. the Nightmare tried to go around one side and Techno skirted to the other.  
  
He let a laugh escape him, it was kinda funny. This table was the one thing keeping him from getting his skull smashed in.  
  
He heard the sirens outside, police cars, and an ambulance. He smirked at the killer, feeling triumphant.  
  
He was brought out of his little bubble of pride when the killer hooked their hands under the table and just flipped it up. Techno had to fall down to the ground to avoid getting cut by the fast-moving blade.  
  
He had crumbled to his knees, looking up and flinching when the Nightmare grabbed his hand, nearly ripping his sleeve off.  
  
He got a look at how the date had changed to show two names instead. He had managed to distract himself from the dangerous situation to question it.  
  
The sirens were close and not moving, in his yard. He heard them beating on his front door, men yelling after entering the house.  
  
The killer pushed him to the ground and hopped out a window in the garage, leaving the pinkette with a pair of broken glasses and his soul mark having appeared, right on time.  
  
Two names, one pink and one green. Techno and Dream, small hearts surrounding the words.  
  
He looked out the window, eyes wide with shock and realization.  
  
"Oh-" It wasn't an answer to the paramedic asking him if he was alright, but a noise of surprise.  
  
He picked up his broken glasses, frowning and looking at how bent they got, even from just being pushed onto the floor. He cleaned them off on his pink sweater-vest, putting them on and not finding it in himself to be upset over the spider-web crack in his vision.  
  
"Are you alright, Sir?"  
  
"...I'll be fine. I have a house to clean up." He now saw the fork he used to stab the killer on the ground, the glove too. He hadn't managed to puncture the skin.  
  
Techno bent down and picked the utensil and clothing article up, removing them from each other.  
  
He wasn't as paralyzed and scared about his soulmate occurrence as one might think, but when he looked back a few minutes later and saw that it was still there and colorful he started to shake.  
  
He expected that to be the end.   
  
This showed it clearly wasn’t.


	10. Seven - The Officer and The Killer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dream meets someone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ITS THAT DREADED TIME!
> 
> our next chapter is *literally* our LAST chapter. I hope y'all are ready, because I'm not and SkyeTheTsubaki probably isn't either :pensive: <3
> 
> But since I got this fic finished I can finish Doll Sweetheart and then go back to KYS and Play Nice :)
> 
> So, thanks for coming on with this wild ride, and please stick around for our final chapter next Wednesday :D

So it went on. Days in the house, silence filling their time together. Techno had almost immediately realized Dream had passed out that night due to a basic lack of human needs.  
  
Dinner was quiet each night, stained tears on Dream's cheeks while the pinkette kept a large glass of water on the table.  
  
He'd watch Dream eat, knowing he didn't make himself breakfast or lunch while the pinkette was out at his day job. Taking proper care of Dream and keeping up the business took time out of his killing schedule.  
  
It was a slow change over the weeks until Dream had slid into the seat next to Techno instead of across. "It's cold."    
  
Techno hadn't truly registered the season, or the date. He was busy with the blonde having purposefully moved close to him.  
  
Christmas eve. That was what today was.  
  
6 days since he'd started the whole killing ordeal again.  
  
It was strange, like time had been flip-flopping. He thought it may have been longer, and a part of his brain thought that time was moving quicker than usual.  
  
Almost like the days on the calendar didn't add up.  
  
Ruby eyes watched a fork stab at bits of a salad and bring the dressing-splattered leaves up and past pale lips. "What do you want for Christmas, Dream?" He noticed the way the blonde chewed slightly slower, as if stalling so he could think.  
  
"My friends back."  
  
That was not something Techno could get for Dream, and he found himself frowning and looking away slightly. "Why?"  
  
There was silence, emerald eyes looking off. "Because they're gone." The fork tapped against a ceramic bowl and an awkward smile spread across a freckled face. "Is it wrong of me to want something back that's permanently erased?"  
  
Slight blonde curls shifted and a hand covered one cheek to prop Dream's chin up on the table. Dream's hair was getting somewhat longer, the ends of blonde hair curling against the back of his hand.  
  
"That's not too much to ask for. Is it?" Emerald met ruby and for once, the gems met without a single spark of hatred coming from deep green.  
  
Just solemn sadness, and the slightest bit of affection.   
  
The blonde ate in silence, not even finishing the salad before standing up and packing it away into the fridge. He had left for his room, tucking in and unable to sleep.   
  
Here he was, unwilling to fight; desperate for a warm body to hug him under surprisingly cold blankets. The trials and tribulations of the entire week had fucked him over. But a knock on the door held his curiosity.   
  
A glance at the wall clock told him it was midnight and he couldn’t help but shake under the covers. It felt like a repeat, in the same room at the same time, a noise in a house.   
  
Dream pushed the covers off and opened the door to peer into the dark living space. A dark hallway that thankfully was not his own.   
  
It was the front door that was being knocked on, shoes silent on wooden floorboards, carefully avoiding the creaky steps.  
  
The front door was still locked, but there was a small peephole in the wood. He could see the moonlight coming through the small glass disc.   
  
Dream was wary of the dark, walking up and peering through to see yellow. Yellow fabric. Techno was asleep, and the blonde didn’t think the pinkette would be expecting guests at this hour.   
  
He came up to the closest window and lightly tapped at it to get the person’s attention- pointing to the left and nodding his head in the same direction. He started walking and saw the person outside follow him.   
  
They came to the broken window, Dream sliding the wooden board out of the way so he could get a look at the brunette.   
  
“Who are you?” The blonde was clutching the cutting board, watching glasses catch the light outside.   
  
The brunette got closer to the broken window so that Dream could properly see his face. “I’m looking for my brother.” The resemblance was obvious. “I didn’t expect someone else to be here with him.”   
  
Emeralds glanced all over the brunette’s face. “I didn’t expect to be here either.” It just came tumbling out, fingers tapping against the slab in his hands. He glanced off into the dark, scared that Techno would wake up. The man had been docile after the rainy day, but he’d seen how violent and spiteful he could get at the flip of a dime.   
  
“You what?” The blonde was shushing him.    
  
“We can’t wake Techno.” He set the board down, pointing at the baseball bat on the ground that had never been retrieved. “Can you hand me that?” It’d be great to have it in the house again, possibly hiding it if he ever found the courage to use it again.   
  
The brunette looked down at his feet and nodded, passing it through the broken glass. “I can’t help but feel you look familiar.”   
  
“Probably.” Dream took the bat, setting it on the counter silently. “I was all over the news-” He threw a hand up in the air, fingers falling into blonde locks.   
  
“...Dream- Dream Anderson-” The brunette’s face was closer to the broken window. “Disappeared a week ago- only surviving victim of-” The brunette’s eyes glanced further into the house.   
  
“Yeah- I’ve been here-” The blonde got up and personal with the glass. Dream was going to speak again but did a double take, staring back at the sweatered-man. “How do you know it’s Techno-” His hands were on the sides of the frame, sleeves falling down and showing off the writing and the hearts.   
  
He saw ruby eyes similar to Techno’s, but more on the darker-brown side glaze over the pink and lime writing. “Because he’s my brother-” His arm was pulled through the window and inspected. “And you’re his soulmate. So you…”   
  
“I was kidnapped- I didn’t run away, don't you even let that thought cross your mind-” He pulled his arm back, hearing shuffling upstairs. Emerald eyes were warily glancing over at the staircase. He only turned back when the noises quieted.   
  
“I- I knew he was a monster, but-” The man was just enamoured with the fact the blonde was here. He shook his head to dismiss the rest of his sentence. “My dad has been looking for you.”   
  
“Why-” All that was running through the blonde’s mind was how that could possibly doom him. Techno’s family could be in on this for all he knows.   
  
“Because he’s the chief of police and he has your case- I need to tell him where you are-”   
  
Things were getting better, Dream coming right back up to the glass. He was going to speak, to express how much he’d love it, but he could hear and see a light turn on out of the corner of his vision. He pushed the man away by sticking his arm through the window, and he covered up the hole with the cutting board again.   
  
The baseball bat was stuffed behind the fridge just in time for Techno to appear at the top of the lit stairs. “Everything alright?” The pinkette rubbed at his eyes while he walked, hitting the creaky step near the bottom. “I heard you- talking.”   
  
“Monologuing. Telling myself a story my mom always would before I fell asleep.” His eyes weren’t on Techno, instead on the ground and then glancing up and seeing the silhouette of the man outside one of the intact windows.   
  
Maybe it had been a test to see if he’d tell someone about the situation he was in, that’s all he could think of.   
  
“Oh? Techno tilted his head, wiping drool from the corner of his mouth. There was a yawn in the air before he continued speaking. “What kind of story.”   
  
“Personal.” Dream brushed past the other, hand on the stair-railing, and once again avoiding the creaking step. He stopped when he heard the click of the radio.   
  
_ Children behave, _ _   
_ _   
_ _ That’s what they say when we’re together… _   
  
The blonde turned away to stare at Techno who had decided to wash the dishes since he was now awake. He stared at the pinkette, watching him slip gloves onto his scarred hands.   
  
He found himself walking back down. He could hear Techno humming along.   
  
“You like music?”   
  
“I like music a whole lot.” He was scrubbing at the salad bowl with a sponge.    
  
It clicked for Dream, since it was Christmas Eve; Techno’s brother was probably here to visit. But then again, the pseudo-call he’d overheard; it didn’t sound like Techno had a good relationship with him. It was a random thought, but it had him brewing and conspiring a plan.   
  
Maybe the sweatered-man was an ally and could get him out.   
  
“I remember you humming while I ran.” Through the house, a low tune. “What song was that.”    
  
“Lovefool by The Cardigans.”   
  
The blonde stood side-by-side the male. It was at this point in time that he realized they were the same height. The killer had been wearing boots that boosted him up by around two or three inches. “Do the songs mean anything to you?”   
  
There was a pause, the soft voice of Tiffany hanging in the air.   
  
_ Running just as fast as we can, _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Holding on to one another hands… _   
  
“Trying to get away. Into the night-” Dream smiled at the pinkette, singing along with the radio. “And then you put your arms around me-” It was like the song had played out, Techno swaying on his feet and falling to the side which knocked Dream to the ground.   
  
_ And we tumble to the ground and then you say- _   
  
“I think we’re alone now.”   
  
There was the quiet sound of a car starting up and pulling away, it was a house down the line though. Dream hummed, staring up at the ruby eyes that looked down at him. “There doesn’t seem to be anyone around.”   
  
The way he saw it, he could indulge his captor as much as he wanted. Someone with direct connection to the police knew he was here.   
  
_ I think we’re alone now... _   
  
The lips almost immediately on his own weren’t ushered away. They were instead pushed against.    
  
As he had told himself, he could indulge his captor; he knew he was getting out.   
  
So he let his fingers tangle into dusty-pink hair and let the collar of his shirt get pulled to the side.   
  
_ The beating of our hearts is the only sound... _

\---

He woke up with the sink water still running and the sun properly in the sky. His shirt and sweater were gone, and his pants seemed haphazardly put back on.   
  
He stared out one of the nearby windows, smiling and starting to softly laugh to himself. He was able to reach up and turn the water off, looking over at the radio that was still playing. He couldn’t recognize the song at first, blinking lazily and rubbing at his eyes.   
  
It had just started, the sound of a single chord playing down in progression and a name.   
  
_ Roxanne. _   
  
Oh. There could never be better timing could there. The blonde was standing and zipping his jeans up.   
  
_ You don’t have to put on the red light.  _   
  
He shook his head, staring over at the musical device and running his hands through his hair to tame curls that’d been ruffled up and became a mess.   
  
What was that rule in horror movies? The virgin usually lasts the longest. Well, here he was.  
  
The last one standing.   
  
Now he gave into ‘sin’ or whatever they say. He was doomed, it was the rule in the movies. The innocent survive by abstaining. He'd fucked up now hadn't he, made a grave mistake. Maybe it wasn't Techno that'd kill him and instead the fridge falling over; crushing him.   
  
_ Those days are over. _   
  
He fiddled through kitchen drawers, avoiding the body on the ground in the exact same state of dress. He pushed any images of last night away, hands lifting up a half-empty carton of cigarettes.   
  
_ You don’t have to sell your body to the night. _   
  
He slid one out, putting the box back away and searching for a lighter. He never found one, hand holding the side of his face and hips level with the counter. If regret was a drug, then he was as sober as could be.   
  
And that was what he hated, fishing the cigarette box back out and sliding the stick into it. He wanted to drown in a cesspool of regret and self-hatred, but there wasn’t a sliver of either thing left on the platter in his mind.   
  
Just a flash of a head on top.   
  
He squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing at his shoulders. They were coated in small purple bruises, and he saw the skinned version in his head- slamming the drawer closed and not even bothering to be mindful of the body on the ground.    
  
He kicked Techno on accident, but he didn’t truly care, noticing how he was out like a light.   
  
He had nothing to do and images of his mutilated friends were running through his internal vision at a mile a minute. He was climbing up the stairs, nowhere to go but somewhere else inside the house.   
  
He stopped halfway up again, coming back down and grabbing his baseball bat.   
  
_ I wouldn't talk down to you,  
  
_ _ I have to tell you just how I fe- _   
  
It was cut off by being smashed into the counter, Dream leaving it a pile of garbage and taking the bat upstairs with him. He wasn’t angry at himself, he was angry at the situation. He wasn’t angry at Techno, he was angry at every single thing Techno had done before last night.   
  
He was up in his room, staring out locked windows and watching kids run around in the street. They threw snowballs, built little structures with the white powder, added twigs and stuff to snowpeople.   
  
Right. Christmas.   
  
“Fuck Christmas.”   
  
He stuffed the bat into his closet, fingers moving along identical outfits. All the green sweater and the collared shirt. He picked up the farthest away, pulling the shirt on and leaving the pants a pile on the ground.    
  
_ “What the hell-” _ _   
_ _   
_ Techno must’ve found his radio, and Dream lifted up the covers on the bed, swaddling himself into them and going back to staring out the door. He was far, but he could hear it.   
  
A second lock was unlocked. He was hoping it was the front door.   
  
He wasn’t stupid, he might’ve dropped out of college; but he wasn’t stupid. He brushed himself off, filing into the bathroom and taming the tangled curls with a comb, cutting off the parts that had fallen against his cheeks.    
  
Hey, the news would love to get a shot of him being pulled out; gotta look his best. He wasn’t bothering with a shower, sticking his face in the sink and letting the running water stick to his hair and make his hair in turn stick to his face.   
  
He was getting ahead of himself, walking back to the pile of blankets on ‘his bedroom’ floor and putting them over his shoulders again.    
  
He could hear the shuffling downstairs, and something get swiped into the trash. It was most likely the destroyed radio, Dream’s head falling against the back of the closed door. He finally had a minute to himself.   
  
He was calming down from his awkward outburst, letting himself slide down until he was sitting, eyes losing and allowing the images of his dead friends to drift in.   
  
It hit him then, Punz and Sam were probably dead too. Dream added them to the mental counter of how many of his friends were gone.   
  
He didn’t have it in himself to care about it anymore.   
  
Fuck his dead friends.   
  
“Fuck Christmas.” He said it again, hearing the kids outside start squealing with joy.    
  
His Christmas wish was to bring people back from the dead and well- not fucking happening. He gave up on that.   
  
Survival. That was how this started. All because he had the audacity to run and stay alive.   
  
“Dream?” He couldn’t hear anger in Techno’s voice, just confusion and a knock on the door.    
  
“Fuck Chirstmas.” He stood up and threw the door open to blankly stare at his captor.   
  
They were eye to eye.   
  
Affection, a shared glance, and shared feeling.    
  
“Fuck Christmas, and fuck breakfast-” Dream dropped the covers, walking past Techno. “Fuck lunch, fuck dinner, fuck  _ me! Right in the ass!- _ ” He threw his hands up, his outburst wasn’t over apparently.   
  
The pinkette was following him down the stairs, having also cleaned himself up and gotten a shirt back on. The remnants of last night weren’t there, Dream’s hands picking up one of the plates from the dirty side of the sink. He was about to smash it when a hand grabbed his wrist, forcing him to put it down and then turn into a comforting embrace.   
  
He leaned into it, frowning.   
  
He saw the man in the window, frowning at him. He was just watching and Dream glanced away.   
  
He didn’t care if it was a trap or not. He didn’t care anymore.   
  
That’s what he told himself, but he knew it was a lie. It was basically animal instincts, either fighting till the last second, or running until it was safe.   
  
“Hey- hey- look at me-” His cheek was cupped and he stared into ruby once again. He pushed his cheek against the hand. ‘What’s wrong?”   
  
Lips were pressed to his forehead and he just sighed.   
  
“Everything.”   
  
“Would music make you feel better?”   
  
“I smashed the radio for a reason.” His voice lacked tone.   
  
“Okay- TV?”   
  
“No noise.”   
  
It was quiet after that, the blonde swimming through the thoughts of the mutilated cadavers. He could hear it, and yet he pretended he didn’t. An alarm clock ringing upstairs.   
  
He took it upon himself to go up and turn it off, looking over Techno’s room.   
  
All he could think of was how the bed was probably more comfortable than the kitchen tile.   
  
When he got back downstairs his eyes picked up motion outside a window. Numbers flashing on hands. The amount of fingers.   
  
9-1-1   
  
Emergency services. The police were on their way.   
  
“Nevermind. I want the TV on.” He took it upon himself, sliding onto the floor and turning the knobs to find a news station.   
  
_ “Last night, a shootout occured. All casualties have not been tallied up yet, but Officer Callahan and the perpetrator are confirmed to be among the numbers. The deceased criminal has been identified as a thief running under the initials K. J. We have confirmation these stand for the man’s name; Karl Jacobs.” _ _   
_ _   
_ Something to take up time. Dream was tapping his fingers against the armrest. “Techno.”   
  
“Hmm?”   
  
The blonde slowly turned to look over his shoulder at the pinkette sitting on the couch. “Wanna play a game?”    
  
He smiled at his soul mate.   



	11. END - THE SOULMATE AND THE FINAL ̶G̶I̶R̶L̶ BOY?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The end.

Techno tilted his head. “What kind of game?” He was intrigued, tapping a hand against his cheek.    
  
“What about Go-Fish? Do you have a deck of cards?” Dream turned the TV down, switching channels to something that’d softly play music. He broke the radio and he didn’t want to just be in silence with his captor.   
  
He could still feel gentle, and then contrasting needy, hands on his body; shivering. He rolled his eyes with his back turned to Techno.   
  
“Yes. I do.” He watched the other fish through the drawers in the TV stand, moving a chess board out of the way to grab a standard deck.   
  
Dream immediately slipped it out of his hands to shuffle the cards and pass them out. “You can go first, Techno.” He could feel his arm tingle from the amount of hearts that covered it. It was romantic in a way, he guessed. Them sitting together with a pile of cards.   
  
_ Midnight, gettin' uptight, where are you? _ _  
  
_ _ You said you'd meet me, now it's quarter to two, _ _  
  
_ _ I know I'm hangin' but I'm still wantin' you… _   
  
Dream spared a glance at the TV. While Techno spoke. “You got any aces?”   
  
The blonde shook his head, tapping the pile of extra cards. “Go fish.” He shuffled through the seven cards in his hands and looked over them. “Got a four?”   
  
He watched the smile on Techno’s face as the card was passed over, he never realized how the other could look so innocent and happy. A wolf in sheep’s clothing? Or is that too cliche? All of this felt cliche.   
  
_ Hey Jack, it's a fact they're talkin' in town, _ _  
  
_ _ I turn my back and you're messin' around. _ _  
  
_ _ I'm not getting jealous, don't like lookin' like a clown… _   
  
Techno nodded, passing the card over. He was then reaching and turning down the TV volume. “You know- this is just… So cute- got a king?”   
  
_ I think of you every night and day, _ _  
  
_ _ You took my heart, and you took my pride away… _   
  
“What is?” Dream shook his head, tapping the pile. He found himself frowning and peering over the edges of his cards.   
  
_ I hate myself for loving you, _ _  
  
_ _ Can't break free from the things that you do… _   
  
“This is just-” Techno drew a card, pairing one of the eights he had already. “So… Calm. Much different from you usually kicking and screaming.”   
  
_ I wanna walk but I run back to you,  
_ _  
_ _ That's why I hate myself for loving you… _   
  
Dream frowned. “What do you mean by that- got a jack?”   
  
“Go fish. It’s just so… Domestic. We have the rings- we could go get properly married- even though we already are-” The pinkette reached over, hand tightening around the ring Dream wore as a necklace.   
  
“What?” Dream’s hand went limp against the pile of cards. He’d pushed out the song like it was white noise.   
  
“We could cuddle and elope-”   
  
“Let’s change games.” Dream stared down at his cards, uncomfortable with the conversation. He had cut the other off and smacked their hand off the ring. Even if he was willing to sleep with the other, twice in the same night, he doesn’t think he could settle with domesticity.   
  
“What game?”    
  
The silence between them was deafening, a strange sinister energy filling the house. Dream was supposed to be the ‘Final Girl’, was he not? They’re the last one standing and they always win in one way or the other.   
  
Emerald eyes were searching through ruby, Dream’s adams apple bobbing in his throat. “Hide and seek. I’ll be the hider. Close your eyes and count to 30.” He held eye contact, staring at Techno and looking for any change in their disposition.   
  
He was going to open his mouth to most likely question the game choice, but Dream cut him off by throwing his cards down.   
  
He wasn’t letting the other deny playing, standing up, turning the music on the TV louder, and using the noise of the device to mask his steps while he saw the other close their eyes.   
  
Hide and seek, a children’s game.   
  
A children’s game that Dream decided he wouldn’t play by normal rules. His hands were shaking as he passed the photos of himself that lined the hallways, tripping on the carpet, but watching himself on the wall before he fell.   
  
Fuck all the progress he made. He was getting out today. It was his new goal. He ran into the bedroom, grabbing his weapon.   
  
His fingers curled around the handle of the baseball bat, off to find a hiding spot. He paused though, deciding against it.   
  
Shit was going to get ugly.  
  
Dream hummed, not bothering to properly hide and instead stand in the middle of the hallway. It was only lit up by one window at the very end, and the open doors of adjacent rooms. He heard Techno counting and the declaration of him being on his way.   
  
He’d not put up with marrying this guy. No- he’d not put up with any of it.   
  
He saw Techno climb to the top of the stairs and they stared down. “Oh come on- you’re supposed to hide-” Dream had the baseball bat behind him and the second Techno came close, he delivered a swift blow to Techno’s knee, watching the other fall back with surprise.   
  
He’d told it to himself before, but now he really meant it, swinging down to try and smash Techno’s skull in. The pinkette moved away and emerald eyes got a good look at one of the green hearts on his soulmate’s arm. He got to see how it seemingly fizzled away.    
  
He stepped back to give himself time, staring down at how one of his own pink hearts did the same.   
  
A stupid smile spread across his face.   
  
He had the courage to finally say it out loud. “I’m not stuck in here with you, Techno-” He raised the bat up, watching the killer scramble back. “You’re fucking stuck with me!” He swung, missing and watching the man dart into a separate room.    
  
He didn’t dare go after, enamoured by the fact one of the hearts had gone away.    
  
He really did have a chance.   
  
Dream wasn’t a violent person by any means, and he found himself shaking, retreating elsewhere into the house.    
  
He crouched down behind the couch, eyes on the front door.   
  
The lights in the house went out and he tried to stop himself from breathing so heavily. He didn’t know where Techno was, he saw him go in one direction but he could be somewhere entirely different now.    
  
The footsteps he heard confirmed that, along with the humming.   
  
The words that weren’t there mocked him and his mind was clear.   
  
_ Love me, Love me, _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Say that you love me… _   
  
He hit a hand against the side of his head. He had a bit of a head start in this game. He’s the one that called for it. He was the one that’d be victorious. “I thought you said you weren’t gonna hurt me?” He risked speaking to scurry behind the kitchen counter.   
  
He didn’t want to admit it, but he was scared of death, scared of getting hurt.   
  
“I thought we had a moment last night.” The voice was somewhat muffled and Dream knew why. A single eye glancing around the corner showed the man masked and clothed- ready to kill and looking the exact same that he did before.    
  
The only difference was his hair.   
  
Okay, the shaking was worse, a hand over his mouth. It felt just like the other night now. Felt just like a year ago.   
  
The only difference was that he had a weapon that wouldn’t involve getting way too close.   
  
It was a good thing he was still in shape, hopping up behind and on top of the counter.   
  
This wasn’t hide and seek. It was hit and run. He caught the killer’s attention and gave him a proper kick to the face, running back off. The back of his sweater was grabbed and he was yanked towards Techno, caught in a choking headlock. His hands came up to try and pry the arm away.   
  
Techno was relinquishing his rule to not hurt Dream. The more hearts that dissipated from both of them, the clearer his own mind became. He didn’t love this blondie in the beginning, things only changed after the soul-mate mark finally appeared.    
  
It was seemingly deleting itself and he could feel Dream tense against him, shaking. He watched the bat drop to the floor so the blonde could get a better grip.  
  
Strangulation wasn’t his preferred method, but it was easy. It kept the skin intact too for later, just slightly bruised which could be suspicious.   
  
But he didn’t feed people the skin, he had nothing to worry about.   
  
They didn’t truly love each other, neither of them did. It was the mark swaying their thoughts the whole time, forcing them together.   
  
Dream quit scratching at the arm that changed to hands over his throat to grab the vase from the coffee table.   
  
He smashed it against Techno’s head and he was let go, dropping to his knees and coughing.   
  
The blonde was quick, grabbing his bat and running to try and recuperate. It was nearly a perfect repeat of last time, just in a new location. A glance down at a pale arm showed that there were only about 14 hearts left. An even split between pink and green.   
  
He patted at his bruised throat, wincing and pulling his fingers away.   
  
He grabbed at the string around his neck, pulling on it hard enough to strap the cord and throw the ring somewhere into the hallway.   
  
He stared down at the ring on his finger he had been neglecting, silver that contrasted the gold on the engagement band.   
  
He stared down at the engraving while he sneaked away to the stairs.   
  
Dulcis Somnii   
  
Latin and a gift from his mother after he’d been attacked the first time. When he wore it, he never had nightmares directly after the encounter. It seemed to lose its ‘magic’ around a week before the anniversary.   
  
Right, his family was still alive; he started muttering saying sorries to the empty hallway that were meant for his family.   
  
_ Sweet dreams are made of this, _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Who am I to disagree? _   
  
His feet were loud as he went upstairs, wearily opening the bathroom door. Techno was apparently downstairs, turning the TV up loud enough that Dream could see the walls slightly shake.   
  
He cornered himself in the bathroom..   
  
He quickly fixed that mistake, running back in the hallway to see Techno slowly walking towards him, ruby eyes cloudy. That window he was next to looked perfect, smashing it in with the bat. An escape route if need be.   
  
He wasn’t scared of bleeding, just scared of the pain and the death it could cause.   
  
_ I traveled the world, _ _  
_ _  
_ _ And the seven seas... _   
  
The blonde had been stupid enough already. He’d relinquished his status as the virgin, with his pursuer nonetheless, in his own eyes he was doomed.   
  
It was just like before, stalling until the cops arrived.   
  
He feigned having the strength to properly fight back, pulling a glare and stepping so his back was flush with the broken window.   
  
_ Everybody’s looking for something... _   
  
No matter how many times he managed to hit Techno, the man was always back up and walking. “Why were you after me in the beginning anyway!” His voice was hoarse from the rough treatment of his throat, swallowing after hurt due to soreness. He grabbed one of the pictures off the wall and slammed it into the carpet, hitting it with the bat and watching the glass shatter.   
  
Theatrics.   
  
“Your father-” He was stalking down the hallway, but at least Dream wasn’t completely cornered.   
  
_ Some of them want to use you, _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Some of them want to get used by you... _   
  
Fight or flight responses weren’t  _ gone.  _ They’d combined.   
  
_ Some of them want to abuse you, _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Some of them want to be abused... _   
  
Synth chords, they echoed through the house with the sounds of the chorus repeating itself.   
  
The blonde smiled and cracked his neck, knuckles following before he was back into a fighting stance. It felt like the soundtrack to a fight scene, tapping his foot in time with the music.   
  
_ Sweet dreams are made of this, _ _  
_ _  
_ _ Who am I to disagree?..  
_   
He started bobbing his head up and down somewhat, test swings. The corridor was long and it was just building anticipation. Techno was drowned in darkness whenever he wasn’t near an open door. “Fuck my father-” He started running towards Techno, noticing the other speed up in pace as well.   
  
_ I traveled the world, _ _  
_ _  
_ _ And the seven seas… _   
  
The bat was wooden, but it held up against a broadsword, getting slashes in the wood and small divots. The blonde darted down and to the left to switch their positions. He had a plan, pushing the other near where he used to be standing. Right by the broken window.   
  
_ Everybody's lookin' for something… _   
  
He watched them grab the doorframe of the bathroom as they passed it, Dream hiking a leg up and pushing against his chest to get him down the hallway.   
  
Hearts were fizzing out at an extreme rate and with every one that was gone; his mind just seemed to get clearer.   
  
Dream was pushing on against the body, sword blocked by the wooden bat and used as a bar to push the other. It took a while, but he was right up against the window.   
  
He powered through the pain of speaking, his voice raspy. “This one’s for George-” His best friend, known him since preschool. He pushed the killer out the window, watching them tumble down and onto the grass.   
  
_ Hold your head up- _   
  
He looked down, finding the nearest heavy thing he could throw down. “For Sapnap-” The one to complete their closest circle, all three of them like brothers. He threw a wall clock down and watched it splinter against Techno’s head.   
  
_ Keep your head up- _   
  
He needed a quick way to get down, adrenaline rushing through his veins. He was running back through the hallway and down the stairs, nearly tripping while he got out the window he’d broken a few days ago.    
  
_ Moving on. _   
  
He came around the house to see Techno had gotten up and discarded his mask, blood dripping down his forehead from an unseen wound. He was going to speak, but Dream quickly stopped that. “For Bad-” The quiet kid in high-school that he became friends with. He smacked the other in the head with the bat, knocking them down and kicking the sword after they’d dropped it.   
  
_ Hold your head up- _   
  
“For Ant!” Dream didn’t even know how he would get in contact with they guy’s boyfriend to tell him what happened. Another wack until Techno was properly on the ground.    
  
_ Moving on. _   
  
“For Fundy!” Even if he hated the guy, he still found love somewhere with the ginger.   
  
_ Keep your head up- _   
  
“For Skeppy!” That guy was such a dork and always brought a smile on Dream’s face with his antics.   
  
_ Moving on. _   
  
“For that random parent!” They were innocent, just walking by at the wrong time to hear Dream call for help.   
_  
_ _ Hold your head up- _   
  
“For their kid!” No kid should have to be killed like that- and watch their parent die in front of them too.   
  
_ Moving on. _   
  
“For whoever you killed when I wasn’t around!” Even if he didn’t know about the street-guitarist and the purple-hoodied kid, he still had suspicions for his co-workers.   
  
_ Keep your head up- _   
  
“For my family that you threatened!” They were all the way down in Florida, yet he didn’t know if Techno could have possibly done something like mail them body parts.   
  
_ Moving on. _   
  
“For your own family that has to fucking deal with you!” The man in the window that seemed to understand how much of a horrible person Techno really was.  
  
There were always three different things that happened to the Final Girl in horror movies.  
  
**They escape and live their life as a stronger person.**   
  
_ Hold your head up- _   
  
There was no response from the bludgeoned killer and Dream only just realized that he was properly covered in blood. He could hear the sirens in the background, the cops were close.  
  
**They escape and the killer goes free to come back for another round of fright.**   
  
_ Moving on. _   
  
He found that he was straddling the body, and that Techno’s face had been smashed beyond being recognizable.  
  
**Or they beat the fucker into a damn pulp.**   
  
_ Keep your head up- _   
  
He looked over to the broken window, anywhere away from the body. He could hear the song continue on the TV, glancing up at the sky.   
  
He saw red and blue lights flash on the trees that lined the property, slowly turning to look over his shoulder.   
  
His face was splattered and speckled with blood that wasn’t his own. He heard the cops say something about putting the weapon down and his hands in the air. He obliged, setting the bloody bat into the grass, right by the shards of glass Techno hadn’t bothered to clean up from when the window was first broken.   
  
He smiled, tears welling up in his eyes while he put his hands behind his head. He saw the brunette from the window with a small blonde in toe. The kid was horrified and the sweatered-man had a hand covering his mouth. “Techno-”   
  
The kid was breaking out of their brother’s hold to go and run over to the body.   
  
Dream started laughing, hysterical.   
  
He couldn’t help it, he had to.   
  
He snuck a glance at his arm, relieved and happy to see that all the hearts were gone, and Techno’s name was now a dark gray instead of pink.   
  
The cops were walking over, helping him stand up while the tears fell. He spared one last glance at Techno’s body that laid in the grass. He just smiled.  
  
He was ducked into the back of an ambulance and a blanket was thrown around his shoulders while tears of joy and relief spilled down his cheeks; parting the speckles of red that coated them. He'd stopped laughing, leaning back against the wall, watching them put up tape around the corpse on the lawn.  
  
His head lolled to the side and he looked directly into the camera, his smile wide and proud of himself.   
  
It cut to black over Dream’s bloodied face and the credits started rolling.   
  
The actors were listed, who played what character. The director, producers, writers, the camera men, make-up design. Stunt coordinators, stunt doubles.   
  
The song continued to play throughout the white scrolling text. The lights in the drive-in movie theatre flicking on, large lamps that caused the cars parked on the field to cast large shadows.   
  
“NO! It can’t be over!” Someone tried to climb out of their car window. "Please!-"   
  
“Skye- get back in here.”   
  
There was an uproar in the drive-in movie theatre, cheers of excitement and disgruntled noises from people that were sad it had ended already. The mass amount of cars started pulling out of the drive-in and leaving the screen, but they continued to chat about the newest block-buster hit.  
  
After most were gone, the projected screen changed from the regular credits. There was a transition card fading on the screen, saying it had been a whole year, and the sleeves of a pastel green sweater checking the mailbox were visible.  
  
Dream licked his lips and tilted his head to the side. "Mom-"  
  
A woman with rainbow-hued hair poked her head out from the front door, a teen girl by her hip.  
  
He flipped the letter in his fingers. "Looks like I'm going back to college." He couldn't be happier and from the smile on the woman's face, she couldn't stop her excitement either.  
  
"My little Dreamling is finally getting his life back on track." She embraced her son, keeping him close.  
  
"Yeah…" The camera zoomed in on the visible part of his face over her shoulder and he shifted to show a bright smile. "I am."  
  
The last thing the audience that stuck around got to see was his now completely bare arm that spanned across his mother's back.   
  
No soulmark of any kind.   
  
Except it changed, like something invisible had brought a marker onto his skin.   
  
_ 10/31/2003 _   
  
A new date written in pink, set for 4 years from now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone for joining me on this wild ride :)
> 
> Big special thanks to these commenters for sticking out to me with incredible theories:
> 
> EclipseKuran  
> SkyeTheTsubaki (*NOT* favorite commentor. I’ve learned I can’t pick favorites with y’all apparently.)  
> collective_world  
> Kikyo2022  
> Curious_Pizza
> 
> Because little did they know, some of the stuff they theorized about or said ended up happening in the fic, or I included just because they said it.
> 
> Also, floweredhorns, you better fucking be sleeping and not staying up until 2am to read this.
> 
> An incredibly special thanks to these people for beta-reading:
> 
> CupFullOfSadness  
> Thornwood Drive (ithefantasticfanatic)  
> Faceless_Author
> 
> Their music taste is incredible and they pointed out as many spelling mistakes as all of us could catch
> 
> And an ultimate special thanks to:
> 
> My Uncle for helping me write Techno’s breakdown by him recalling a past episode he had.  
> My Dad for providing me with a full case of redbull while I wrote this and pulled nearly 4 all-nighters  
> My IRL friend Whyz_Not for both beta-reading and helping me send them scenes without context to get their opinion on pacing of some things.  
> My ADHD for having me hyper-fixate on working on this fic so I could actually get it completed instead of it just floating around to forever be unfinished.
> 
> Lastly, thank you all for reading this fic and actually enjoying! Feel free to ask me anything in the comments if something needs clarification.
> 
> Our story is over, but I will be having one last ‘chapter’ for another Author’s Commentary on the chapters six, seven, and eight.
> 
> Maybe even a commentary on the role!swap where I can talk more about that idea :)
> 
> Until tomorrow for that final piece of Heart Lies…
> 
> Stay cool, (Also follow me on Instagram at infectiousKnowledge if you want to DM me about anything related to this story. I’ll also answer any Discord DMs at infectiousKnowledge#8326 as long as it’s after 4pm MST)! If this gets enough support… I’ll make the sequel :)


	12. Author's Commentary 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> :)

_**Chapter 6** _   
**_“That would be lovely. I can’t make it to lunch, so dinner it is.”_ ** **  
** **“Just the two of us.” He heard no confirmation on the other side. “Dad- the two of us. Cardoza’s Little Bakery Shop.”**   
I can’t remember if I said it before- but all locations in this fic are actually real! Cardoza’s Little Bakery Shop is a real place and Techno’s butcher shop is actually a place called The Pork Shop which is located in Mesa, Arizona!   
  
**_Paranoia, paranoia,  
_ ** **_Everybody's coming to get me..._ ** **  
** **He looked around the room, it felt as if Harvey Danger was inside the walls; the beat surrounding him and filling the space. It was like a surge of confidence building. The first thing in a while he’d heard that was unrelated to Techno.** **  
** **_Just say you never met me,  
_ ** **_I'm running underground with the moles, digging holes..._ ** **  
** **Techno had got into the swing of the rhythm, having nothing better to do while he waited. It’d take four hours to drive home and then he’d have dinner with his father. He could kill time and listen to the song.** **  
** **His fingers itched to change the channel but he didn’t do so, spinning around and nearly tripping over a scalpel he left on the ground. The knife was immediately picked up and set with his other tools.**   
Okay, fuck. This entire switching point of views scene with the music was my honestly- yeah, it really was my favorite thing to write in this whole fic. I was just really fucking proud of it and liked the pacing with the song.   
  
**The pinkette let go of the kid, seeing another in his peripheral, a purple hoodie-wearing teen, walking and sitting next to the guitarist. They started to joke around.**   
If no one could tell, this is Purpled and Quackity! I faked everyone out by titling the chapter in a way that they thought it’d be Wilbur and Tommy getting killed. I pulled a sneaky on ya :)   
  
**It was rocky at first, but now it was reaching a smoother sort of plateau. This could work out in the end. He could have a happily ever after, it usually came after hardships anyway.** **  
** **He just spread his arms out, silently asking for a hug. He was initiating it himself, wanting to be held. His demand was almost immediately met, tears coming back full force.** **  
** So, basically; remember how Dream had started crying the first time Techno left the house? Yeah, that was because he was finally alone to be able to grieve the death of his friends. This was his next thing, wrong place wrong time. He just wanted to be held and the only person nearby to do that was Techno.   
  
  


  
_**Chapter 7** _   
**The brunette got closer to the broken window so that Dream could properly see his face. “I’m looking for my brother.” The resemblance was obvious. “I didn’t expect someone else to be here with him.”**   
Wilbur is looking for his brother at Midnight, what a crazy-head (He knows Techno usually wakes up around this time. He doesn’t know that having his soulmate guaranteed has made him get some good nights sleep instead of being restless. THEN AGAIN HE EVEN DIDN’T KNOW THE GUY HAD A SOULMATE AT THIS TIME). Basically, I had this idea of Dream looping into solemn somewhat-domesticity and getting it interrupted before it could really take him over. Wilbur was the perfect option, Phil saw Techno’s outburst at the diner as a sign they needed to talk. He was the one who sent Wilbur to talk to his brother, and they ended up finding the kidnapping victim from the chief’s case files. (Good on those who realized. Yes, Phil answered Techno late because Wilbur was on the other side of the phone with him while they both reviewed Dream’s papers.)   
**  
Christmas eve. That was what today was.  
** **6 days since he'd started the whole killing ordeal again.  
** **It was strange, like time had been flip-flopping. He thought it may have been longer, and a part of his brain thought that time was moving quicker than usual.** **  
** So uh, fun fact :) I included the part about time seeming longer or slower because I uh- kinds forgot how long it had been and I was too busy to go back and count the days :|   
  
**_Roxanne.  
_ ** **Oh. There could never be better timing could there. The blonde was standing and zipping his jeans up.  
** **_You don’t have to put on the red light._ ** **  
** **He shook his head, staring over at the musical device and running his hands through his hair to tame curls that’d been ruffled up and became a mess.  
** **What was that rule in horror movies? The virgin usually lasts the longest? Well, here he was.  
** **The last one standing.  
** **Now he gave into ‘sin’ or whatever they say. He was doomed, it was the rule in the movies. The innocent survive by abstaining.** **  
** **_Those days are over._ ** **  
** **He fiddled through kitchen drawers, avoiding the body on the ground in the exact same state of dress. He pushed any images of last night away, hands lifting up a half-empty carton of cigarettes.** **  
** **_You don’t have to sell your body to the night._ **   
For those who don’t know the laws of 80s-90s slashers… The dubbed ‘final girl’ was always the one who got out alive because they didn’t do drugs, drink, or have sex like all their friends did. Also, the song is Roxanne by The Police; a song about a prostitute who the singer has fallen in love with.  
  
**_“Last night, a shootout occured. All casualties have not been tallied up yet, but Officer Callahan and the perpetrator are confirmed to be among the numbers. The deceased criminal has been identified as a thief running under the initials K. J. We have confirmation these stand for the man’s name; Karl Jacobs.”_ **   
When I showed some of my beta-readers the title- they thought it was Phil and Techno dying. So well- get bamboozled, anyone who thought that :)

  
  
  
**_ Chapter 8 _  
** **The silence between them was deafening, a strange sinister energy filling the house. Dream was supposed to be the ‘Final Girl’, was he not? They’re the last one standing and they always win in one way or the other.**   
I am guilty. I plead guilty. This entire fic was indeed an excuse for me to use the Final Girl trope. **  
** **  
** **He had the courage to finally say it out loud. “I’m not stuck in here with you, Techno-” He raised the bat up, watching the killer scramble back. “You’re fucking stuck with me!” He swung, missing and watching the man dart into a separate room.**   
Kudos to all who caught when I mentioned this in the… Fourth chapter? I can’t remember I’m kinda tired XD   
  
**Dulcis Somnii** **  
** **Latin and a gift from his mother after he’d been attacked the first time. When he wore it, he never had nightmares directly after the encounter. It seemed to lose its ‘magic’ around a week before the anniversary.**   
That latin actually means ‘Sweet Dreams’ which led us into the song of the same name :D   
  
**They escape and live their life as a stronger person.** **  
** **_Hold your head up-_ ** **  
** **There was no response from the bludgeoned killer and Dream only just realized that he was properly covered in blood. He could hear the sirens in the background, the cops were close.  
** **They escape and the killer goes free to come back for another round of fright.** **  
** **_Moving on._ ** **  
** **He found that he was straddling the body, and that Techno’s face had been smashed beyond being recognizable.  
** **Or they beat the fucker into a damn pulp.** **  
** I’m really not wrong. This is how every single horror movie with the teenagers vs. killer ends. Also, this entire scene where he was bludgeoning Techno was… Well I thought it was extremely creative :) having him call out the victims in time with the song lyrics. I dunno. Music was a big part of this fanfiction because it was supposed to be like the movie soundtrack… which…   
  
**“NO! It can’t be over!” Someone tried to climb out of their car window. "Please!-"** **  
** **“Skye- get back in here.”**   
This is our good-friend SkyeTheTsubaki! They have left a long ass paragraph of theories on nearly every chapter and well, I got to actually get ahold of them through a messaging system. They got a little cameo :)   
  
**Dream licked his lips and tilted his head to the side. "Mom-"  
** **A woman with rainbow-hued hair poked her head out from the front-door frame, a teen girl by her hip.  
** Yes. That is Puffy and Drista :)   
  
**The last thing the audience that stuck around got to see was his now completely bare arm that spanned across his mother's back.  
** **No soulmark of any kind.** **  
** **Except it changed, like something invisible had brought a marker onto his skin.** **  
** **10/31/2003** **  
** **A new date written in pink, set for 4 years from now.**   
Oh my- what could this mean?    
  
  
  
_**FAQ** _   
**Q: Sequel??? That ending was so- CLIFFHANGER?-**   
A: Sequel is gonna be released on March 30th (which is also my birthday)   
  
**Q: Can I make fan art for this?**   
A: YES- Please send it to me either via Discord (infectiousKnowledge#8326) or my email ( [ sulphiechan@gmail.com ](mailto:sulphiechan@gmail.com) ) I keep it all in a folder on my desktop   
  
**Q: Can I make something inspired by this? Based-off it?**   
A: Again; YES! Please mark it as a gift to me though so I can see where it is. Otherwise I may not find it :sweats: Mark it as a gift or if you don’t want to do that then DM me on Discord the link (mentioned above) or email it to me (mentioned above) if you don’t want to post it, then please either DM or email me what you’ve written so I can keep it in my special doc :D (its where I keep things like fanart and/or fan-drabbles)   
  
**Q: How can I contact you?**   
A: Literally either by email or Discord. I probably won’t answer my Discord DMs as fast as my email, but that is a more direct line of contact!   
  
**Q: What’re your pronouns?**   
A: They/Them!   
  
  
  
And now I have a question for you guys.   
**_Q: What’s your favorite scary movie..?_ **


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